Metal Gear Saga: Episode 1, Steel Dawn
by Pika132
Summary: A novelization of Metal Gear for the MSX. Rookie FOXHOUND operative Solid Snake is sent to infiltrate the rogue nation of Outer Heaven and investigate a mysterious weapon known only as "Metal Gear". COMPLETE! DONE! FINISHED! R and R!
1. Insertion Point

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami._

_Author's Note: I work on this in my spare time, so don't expect updates too frequently._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

If you were to travel into the wilderness in the middle of South Africa...you probably wouldn't find anything. It's the sort of area that, following the unofficial truce between the companies seeking resources and the greens protecting them, even the animals leave well alone. But if you did travel there, and you ran out of gas in the process, you'd be S.O.L. A quick look at a recent map reveals that the only sign of civilization is Galzburg, 200 km to the south.

There once was a fairly big city around there, the oddly-named Outer Heaven. An unsuccessful attempt at establishing a self-sufficient enclave, it was destroyed six months after its creation by the implosion of their power reactor.

So goes the official government story. The one the civilians heard.

The military knows better.

_Chapter One: Insertion Point_

**Outer Heaven**

**0430 Hours, August 21, 1995**

In the iron jungle that was the "nation" of Outer Heaven, the emphasis was on function, not form. The few aesthetic touches that did exist seemed almost an afterthought—the river flowing past the southern border of the complex doubled as a sewage dump. The man swimming in it was not too enthused about this.

As an added insult, he was also swimming upriver.

Climbing from the grimy water onto a platform overlooking it, he shook his head to clear it of the water. He was in the process of drying off his transceiver when it beeped twice. Crouching, he donned the transceiver's single earphone and turned the knob to "SEND".

"This is Solid Snake," he said. "I've infiltrated Outer Heaven." The slightly wet transceiver crackled a bit as it transmitted, but there was no other effect. A few moments later, Snake had his response.

"This is Big Boss," a voice on the other end intoned. "You're right on schedule, Snake."

Snake looked at his watch and was pleased to note that this was the case. The paramilitary operatives of FOXHOUND were known for two things: stealth and punctuality. So far Snake had acquired a reputation for the latter, but as a rookie operative he had yet to accomplish the former.

Big Boss was the head honcho at the headquarters of Snake's elite unit, the full name of which was Special Operations FOXHOUND. Though now in his mid-sixties and still as deadly as ever, he maintained that a soldier's most valuable weapon was his wits. In his early days as a CIA agent during the Cold War, he was a ruthless killer, but after a particularly violent "infiltration" in which he lost the use of his right eye, he was supposedly told, "An elite soldier can choose between lethal and nonlethal force. An unconscious grunt presents just as little threat as a dead one." Whatever the truth in this story, Big Boss took the lesson to heart and so FOXHOUND operations were invariably solo stealth missions, with the emphasis on avoiding enemy contact. Snake had done some infiltration missions before joining FOXHOUND (mostly reconnaissance for larger squads), but he was a relative novice compared to most of his peers.

As if on cue, Big Boss continued, "First off, remember that this is a stealth mission. If an alarm is sounded, there's no telling how the terrorists might react. Avoid conflict and confrontation at all costs."

"Gotcha," Snake replied. "Weapons and equipment?"

"You'll notice you have none. That's intentional; the lighter the better and you're bound to find some guns in there eventually. And if it comes to that, I didn't create that Close Quarters Combat course because I had funds to burn."

Snake nodded into the two-way camera on his right wrist. Actually, if it did come to that, Snake had his favorite brand of cigarettes, which he could use as flares, and a bandanna which might be useful for strangulation. "Run the mission objectives past me one more time."

"As you know," began Big Boss, "Outer Heaven has been a constant thorn in the side of the South African government, because it maintains its status as a sovereign nation and not a city subject to the government's laws. While its government has some republican aspects, the highest authority figure is a military dictator known only as 'the Commander'. We know only the name—no description or background."

"Anonymity in a dictatorship is usually intended to inspire paranoia," observed Snake, recalling the example of Big Brother. "The leader could be anyone, anywhere."

"Precisely. But our current concern is not the actions of the leader. Snake, you of course know about Gray Fox."

_Who doesn't?_ Snake wondered. Frank Jaeger (for that was Fox's real name) was everybody's friend and always greeted even the rookies when they reported for duty, ensuring that everyone knew him—and to know Frank was to love him. But he was hardly just another one of the boys. Frank was currently the only person in FOXHOUND history to obtain the coveted rank of "Fox", which was only a step below Big Boss himself. His skills at infiltration and hand-to-hand were as of yet unsurpassed among the many friends he made, and the events of his countless solo operations were the stuff of legend. He was unbeatable.

Which made it all the more surprising when Snake, on transceiver duty at FOXHOUND HQ a few days previously, had received a message from Gray Fox. It was short and quite panicked: "I'm captured! Outer Heaven has Metal Gear..." The message was interrupted by a bullet hitting Fox's transceiver, leaving Snake and his colleagues to ponder the meaning of the message.

Big Boss's words jolted Snake back to reality. "We believe that the 'Metal Gear' Fox spoke of is some sort of nuclear weapon; Outer Heaven has threatened to nuke Johannesburg, Cairo, Lagos, and several other key African cities—unless they are given independence and UN recognition."

"What about the usual targets? New York, Paris, Tokyo?"

"Not even mentioned. Most likely, they are out of the operational range of Outer Heaven's nuclear missiles. It is our belief that Metal Gear, whatever it is, is not yet complete, and that it cannot launch a long-range nuclear strike at this stage. This, combined with a brief shift in the security force's attention from keeping us out to keeping Fox in, has provided us with a window of opportunity."

"Which is why we're risking sending a man in. Namely, me."

"Exactly. Your mission objectives, as you have no doubt ascertained, are twofold. One: Locate and rescue Gray Fox ASAP, if he's still alive. Two: Determine the nature of Metal Gear and, if necessary, destroy it before it's completed. This mission will be codenamed 'Intrude N313'."

Snake nodded again. "Any contacts?"

"There's a resistance faction within Outer Heaven that views this threat as not only an act of terrorism, but a gross corruption of the nation's ideals. They want to overthrow the Commander and install their own government, and they're willing to accept outside help to see that it happens." Pause. "Bunch of loonies, if you ask me."

Snake chuckled softly. "And we're so much better. We want to rescue our man and destroy their nation, and we're willing to accept inside help to see that it happens. A precarious balance, if you ask me."

Big Boss ignored the breach of formality—he was prone to them himself. "Naturally, we're aware of each others' ulterior motives, but for the moment I think we can suspend those and work towards a common goal. The resistance leader, Kyle Schneider, has a transceiver. Contact him at frequency 120.13 for information on any weapons or gear you find."

Snake dialed the number into his transceiver's memory. "Anyone else?"

"A resistance analyst has been assigned to us for this mission. Her name is Diane Segal. Frequency 120.33".

After saving this number as well, Snake asked, "Is there anything else I should know, sir?"

After a moment, Big Boss sighed. "Snake, you're a good kid. This may be your first mission, but I know you've got potential. Don't get killed." He paused to let it sink in. Then, in an attempt at levity: "That's an order."

Snake grinned. "Yes, sir...Commencing Operation Intrude N313."

_Chapter Notes: This is the slightly revised version of this chapter. Not much to say here, yet...There will be an author's note above the chapter, with my latest excuse for being so damn late with updates, and chapter notes below, explaining anything in the chapter that needs explaining._


	2. Schneider

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: The joys of technology! My computer is up in my bedroom now, and by the time you read this I'll finally be connected to the Net via wireless Linksys router. Though, as I write this, I have gone without for over a week. Well, good things come to those who wait. Like wireless Internet. And updates._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Two: Schneider_

A quick glance inside the building Snake had arrived in front of revealed that security was fairly slipshod, at least at this point. There were two sentries visible in the distance, patrolling near a few crates, but neither seemed terribly alert. As Snake approached, however, one of them turned his way, and only by ducking behind some crates did Snake escape detection. Snake thought for a moment, then decided to sneak around the left side.

Directly into the path of another guard.

Snake looked up at his enemy, and for a long moment they stared at each other, not quite sure what to do. Suddenly Snake, who was still crouched, simply yanked the man's legs out from under him. He hit the ground and stayed there. Snake took the opportunity to run for his life.

Reaching a small dirt courtyard with several trucks parked, Snake paused to catch his breath and curse his stupidity. The man probably wasn't dead—he didn't hit ground hard enough for that—but this meant he was going to wake up and sound an alarm.

_Calm down,_ Snake told himself. _It's your first mission. You will screw up. Hell, you just did. Not the end of the world. He'll probably think it was one of his buddies messing with him._ Feeling reassured, Snake climbed into the back of one of the trucks to scavenge for supplies.

There was another soldier inside.

Snake nearly swore aloud before realizing that the soldier's back was to him. Snake thought for a moment, then ducked back outside the truck and knocked on the outer wall. A few seconds later, the soldier came outside to investigate.

Snake punched him in the face, eliciting a very satisfying "thwack" and knocking him out cold. Snake dragged him back into the truck and frisked him

The soldier was lightly armed—a pistol, no spare ammo, and a single grenade. _Too noisy, _Snake noted of the latter, leaving the grenade but taking the pistol. He also noticed a small plastic card in the soldier's vest pocket; on a whim, he took it. The card was embossed with the number 1 in bold.

Snake examined the pistol. Not the sort of weapon he'd had experience with; Snake was better at avoiding conflict, and when killing was necessary he would have preferred an automatic weapon of some sort. _Well,_ Snake thought, _you go to war with the army you have_. He dialed frequency 120.13 into his transceiver to glean some information on both the weapon and the situation.

A cool, soft voice answered. "Who is this?"

Snake took a moment to respond. "This is Solid Snake, Special Operations FOXHOUND. You're Schneider? The resistance leader?"

"That's right. You sound a bit surprised."

"Well, I..."

"Expected me to be a bit rougher around the edges?" Schneider chuckled warmly. "Not all of us conform to the stereotypes, buddy. Real war is way different from the movies."

Snake knew this, sort of, but it was always a bit of a surprise to experience something for real. Schneider was a good-looking, sandy-haired fellow, not the grizzled veteran Snake had anticipated. "You can give me advice and details for weapons and gear I find?"

"Absolutely. In addition to being resistance leader, I am also the quartermaster."

"Sounds impressive." A veiled inquiry, masquerading as a compliment. Schneider did not notice.

"I appreciate that, but really, it's mostly out of necessity. We are not exactly a large group—as Voltaire said, it's dangerous to be right when the government is wrong. What do you need?"

"I found a handgun. What kind is this?" Snake held the pistol in front of his wrist cam.

"Beretta M92F. 9mm, 15 round clip, probably one of the most user-friendly handguns created. Screw on a suppressor and you're set. Wouldn't recommend using it without though—yours is a stealth mission, I hear."

"Roger that. Have you heard anything about the hostage from FOXHOUND?"

"No, only that he's here. No location or anything, sorry."

Snake was slightly disappointed by this. "Where should I look first?"

Schneider thought a moment. "You wouldn't happen to have card 1, would you?" In response, Snake held up the plastic card in front of the wrist cam. Schneider seemed surprised. "How did you..."

"Borrowed it from a guard. What does this open?"

"Any door with a 1 on it. Such as the one that opens an elevator to the northwest of your position. It goes between the first two floors. Check the second floor."

"Are there holding cells there?"

"There are makeshift ones all over this complex—in a recent raid, they took two entire UN peacekeeping squads searching the place, along with some of our own. Hostages are scattered around the entire military sector; about 25 total."

"Sector?"

"Outer Heaven is divided into three sectors: government, military, and private. The private sector is about three clicks east of here; it's the 'city' part of the nation. All the civilians, factories and privately owned commercial enterprises are there; Outer Heaven is totally self-sufficient. You shouldn't need to go there; all you'll find is a skeleton crew of military police and loads of civilians."

Snake knew that Outer Heaven also took in refugees from conflicts around the globe; they were probably housed in the private sector. "The military sector...that's this whole complex, right?"

"It's the whole building you're in, plus two more to the north. The government sector is in building 3, 100 floors below the ground. Only the Commander and his mercenaries have been there—the mercenary generals of Outer Heaven's army double as the Commander's personal advisors; sort of like the US President's Cabinet."

"What about the hostages? "

"Some of them are Resistance members, like I said. They might be able to tell you more about the complex. That could help you find your buddy."

"Got it. Anyone from your team who can help me?"

"Diane's our analyst; I think you have her frequency already. She'll keep track of your objectives and tell you where to go next. Ordinarily I'd get Jennifer to help you as well—she handles the combat around here—but she's real broken up over all our guys that were captured and hasn't said a word since her two brothers got taken with them. I've lost more than a few people I loved since I started the Resistance, so I can sorta feel for her, but it's just not the same, y'know? Anyway, rescue all the prisoners you can find and I'll see what I can do with her over on this end."

"Roger. Snake out."

The transmission ended, and Snake climbed back out of the truck. Before returning to the building, Snake noticed a high fence to the north, electrified and topped with barbed wire. Wisely choosing not to approach it, Snake returned to the area with the crates.

The sentry Snake had literally wiped the floor with was just beginning to come to his senses. Snake darted past him and his comrade and headed for the unguarded elevator. He slipped inside and ascended.

_Chapter Notes: The original Metal Gear is obviously going to be the hardest of the games to convert into an enjoyable reading experience, due to lack of dialogue for much of the game. Solution: Add dialogue! Add events! Add characters, even, if it comes to that! Also, I am not a great writer of action sequences—mostly, I do clever wordplay—but Metal Gear is too awesome a source to leave un-novelized. As if that was a word._


	3. The Trick Book

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: I have entered the final stage of rehearsal for an amateur production of _West Side Story_, performances of which begin Thursday._ _Yes, I'm a drama geek, and damned proud of it, thank you very much. Additionally, there is a vacation scheduled immediately following._

_In summary, starting on the 27th of July and ending God knows when, I will be too far from the keyboard to type, either because I'm really tired from a performance and can't be arsed to get up from my bed and walk six feet to my computer, or because I'm 600 miles away from my entire house and there's no way in hell I can even see the screen without pulling a Psycho Mantis. "I will now update this fanfic by the power of my will alone!" Don't I wish._

_All this means is that you should probably be impressed, since I am throwing my normally nonexistent work ethic out the window and staying up nights to finish this chapter. Writer's block on Chapter 3...of Part 1 of 7...of a story I didn't write...maybe I'm not cut out for this. (Yeah, I know, multiple paragraphs OMG, well I can do that because it's my fanfic :p)_

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Three: The Trick Book_

There were two surveillance cameras in the area with the elevator, but they were both stationary and easy enough for Snake to slip past. The real trouble came past a door in the southeast of that hall—it led to an airlock with two other doors, and the one marked "Holding Cells" required card 2, by the looks of it. Snake was forced to take the other door, into a room that suddenly filled with tear gas when he entered. By holding his breath, closing his eyes, and using trial and error, Snake managed, after several trips back to the safety of the airlock, to find a path to the other side.

Snake was somewhat irked, to say the least, to discover a gas mask lying in plain sight on a table in this room. _Definitely placed incorrectly on purpose_, he thought, placing the mask around his neck. The room narrowed at the other end into a corridor with a small room off to either side. One contained a UN prisoner who knew only the directions to the exit ("Are you going to escort me?" "Do you know where I can find a FOXHOUND that was captured?" "No." "Thought so. Get away from me.") and one was a storage room with two 9mm clips, a 9mm silencer, and a laser aiming module for the Beretta.

Continuing on past another door requiring card 2, Snake entered a large room that seemed to be a munitions storage area. Most of the doors were locked, save one—and as he approached it, Snake heard someone say, "Is someone there?"

Snake darted inside and scanned the room for anything that would prevent his imminent detection—a bare table, some cardboard boxes containing ammunition, a weapons rack with three unloaded AK-47 rifles...nothing seemed like it would help Snake escape unseen. The soldier was fast approaching...

------------------------------------------------

Michael Drummond was not a great soldier. He was a decent shot, to be sure, and could kill a man without hesitation if necessary, but he simply lacked the motivation for the job.

One of his buddies in the barracks had recently told him that the soldiers of Outer Heaven were nothing more than employees, whose 9-to-5 job happened to be a bit riskier than an ordinary man's. Drummond had taken this metaphor to heart and was doing his job badly. He was somewhat apathetic at the moment, and he only saw a figure in the shadows near one of the storage rooms because his head was turned that way. Drummond made the usual friend-or-foe check, and was a bit surprised by the lack of an answer.

Drummond said again, "Who's that?" Again, no response. This worried Drummond. He flicked the safety off his M11 submachine gun and gave a warning with more bravado than he felt: "I know you're there. Identify yourself or I'll shoot!" He sidled across the wall to the storage room, waited a moment, then jumped out of hiding and saw...

Nothing.

Drummond blinked. There was nobody in the room. There were no traces of an intrusion, and the room was untouched—the table was bare, there were three fully loaded rifles on the weapons rack, the ammunition was stored neatly in boxes in the corner. Finally Drummond simply chalked it up to

boredom, safetied his weapon, and returned to his position.

------------------------------------------------

Seeing that the guard had left, Snake carefully stood up and stepped out of the cardboard box in the corner. _Oldest trick in the trick book,_ he thought.

Snake was about to replace the three empty magazines he'd moved from the box, but then, thinking better of it, took them with him. Utilizing considerably more caution than previously, he returned to the main storage area and slipped into another hallway.

This hallway had a single patrol, also not very alert. Snake delivered a powerful blow to the side of the soldier's head, knocking him out. A cursory search revealed card 2. _Now we're talkin',_ Snake thought with a sense of genuine accomplishment.

Snake returned to the holding cells and entered with his newly acquired card. At the sight of a new face, the prisoners perked up. Snake deftly swiped his card in each of the readers, freeing all the prisoners.

When inquiring about Fox, Snake was directed to an older prisoner. Snake asked him if he knew of the captured FOXHOUND's location.

"He's somewhere in the high security cells in basement 1 of this building," said the man. "I believe you need card 3 to enter, though..."

"Don't worry," said Snake. "I know a surefire way in."

_Chapter Notes: Wow...that was lame. Ooh, quasi-cliffhanger! Well, it's Friday in Alexville and I can't believe I have the energy to do this after a (highly successful) performance last night. If I thought anyone who knew me was reading this I'd direct them to the performance...but, y'know, the Interweb is a biiiiiiiig place._


	4. Fox

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: Updates? What updates? You don't need updates. I don't got to show you no steeenking updates. Stupid apathy. Stupid post-San Diego letdown. Stupid me._

_Fanfic. Right._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Four: Fox_

"I tell you I _heard_ something!" Drummond practically yelled into the radio. "Like the sound of a magazine being ejected!"

Drummond had been relieved of his second floor patrol route forty-five minutes earlier. After a fifteen-minute break, he was reassigned to the first basement level. The first thing he had noticed was the three guard dogs were gone. Closer examination revealed they were feeding from a military ration in a corner far away from their respective positions across the labyrinthine basement. Then a magazine had dropped to the floor somewhere, and alarm klaxons started going off in Drummond's head. Ever the responsible one, he'd immediately radioed HQ to report this new development.

Drummond's CO, of course, was an asshole who didn't even believe him. He was currently berating Drummond. He wasn't even yelling, either—no, he controlled his anger, but just barely. The result was extremely creepy, a highly unsettling cross between Drummond's seventh grade math teacher and Christopher Walken in _Biloxi Blues_.

Drummond finally lost it. "You know what? I don't care anymore. I'm not even gonna report in again. I'm gonna find this intruder, and if he finds you first and snaps your neck I will count that as a bonus." Drummond threw his radio aside.

"Oof!"

The radio hit flesh, and elicited a grunt from the owner of the flesh. Instantly, Drummond's head was down in a tactical crouch and his MAC-11 out in a two-handed grip. "Give up now and save yourself a very painful death!" he cried.

A brief pause. Then: "Fine." This came not from Drummond, but from the man in the dark blue jumpsuit who now slowly emerged from the shadows, arms raised and head down. "Just for the record, that thing with the radio is the only reason you got me. But yeah, you got me."

"Damn straight," Drummond grinned. "Weapons?"

"Too badass for them. Check for yourself."

Drummond blinked. "Then how the hell did you get in here?"

"Because I'm awesome. And stealthy."

Drummond admired this guy. He had chutzpah. "Whatever. I'm gonna search you, and if you resist, you will be shot."

The man did not respond, but he didn't resist, either. He turned out to not be carrying anything—not even dog tags. When hit with the butt of Drummond's MAC-11 he went down without complaint. Drummond found his radio, dusted it off, and called HQ with five words: "Guess what I just found."

------------------------------------------------

Snake awoke in a large cell with no door. He was not bound, so retrieving his transceiver from its hiding place under his sneaking suit proved easy. He dialed frequency 120.85. "This is Snake...I've been captured on purpose."

Big Boss took a long time to respond, and when he did it was simply: "Gwuh?"

"So I can find Fox. I think I'm in the cell next to him—I hear tapping coming from the west wall. Looks pretty weak, too."

Big Boss waited a moment, then replied: "Not the way I would have done it...but I admire your knack for strategy. Looks like we share that, at least."

"Roger that. I'm gonna see if I can make a hole in this wall. Snake out."

The wall was not really a wall, just a plaster and metal barrier—and one part was fortified with wood instead of metal. A powerful kick shattered this and provided a hole for Snake to crawl through.

On the other side, a thin man with well-combed light blond hair was leaning against the north wall, arms folded. "Took you long enough. Solid Snake, right?"

"And you are Gray Fox, nicest super-spy I know."

Fox laughed. "Guilty. You have your transceiver, right?"

Snake nodded. "Why?"

"This door opens to a radio frequency—120.96 to be precise. I overheard the guard say so." Gesturing to the transceiver, Fox said, "Would you do the honors?"

"With pleasure." Snake dialed in the frequency and turned the knob to "SEND". The door slid open silently. "Ain't technology great?"

Fox chuckled. "You bet. Our equipment is to the south."

Snake took his silenced pistol, a MAC-11 submachine gun, one grenade, two plastic explosives, and card 3 from the armory, while Fox took a transceiver as well as his signature weapon, a custom 14mm magnum he called the "Foxglove". Snake also noticed a weapon resembling a miniature missile launcher. "What in the world do you think this is?" he inquired of Fox.

Fox looked at the weapon. "This is the other prototype weapon they're developing here. It's called the NIKITA, and its missiles are radio-guided. You use this panel here..."—Fox pointed to a panel that folded out of the weapon's side—"...to control the missile's flight path. It even attaches a mini-camera so you can see where the missiles are going. Ain't technology great?"

"You bet. What was the first prototype weapon?"

"Metal Gear. Remember that?"

Snake recalled Fox's last transmission. "What is it?"

"A really big tank with legs."

Snake blinked. "The hell...?"

"Metal Gear was originally designed to bridge the gap between powerful artillery and mobile infantry, by combining the qualities of both. It can run up to 225 miles an hour at top speed."

Snake could only gape. "Wow..."

"But that's not all. Outer Heaven has no use for a walking tank by itself, so they kidnapped a Russian scientist—Dr. Drago Pettrovich Madnar—to make it nuclear-capable. The modifications will allow it to launch a nuclear warhead from its conventional missile launcher—and with a maximum operational range of 8000 miles, it will be able to launch a nuclear strike against any target in the world."

Snake was stunned. "That's incredible...and terrifying. How did they manage all that without anyone knowing?"

Fox shook his head. "The basic design of the walking tank is Russian in origin—I'm not sure exactly who made it—and Madnar is only adding the nuclear capability. When it's finished..." Fox trailed off.

A thought struck Snake. "When it's finished. Meaning—"

"It's still being built. So all you have to do—"

"Is destroy the thing before it's completed," Snake finished. "Shouldn't be too hard; it's gotta have a weak point."

"I'm not so sure," countered Fox. "The only places its armor is thin enough for even heavy explosives to penetrate are in the legs, and that couldn't inflict enough structural damage to bring the thing down. I've seen the blueprints."

This disappointed Snake, but he was determined to try. "There's gotta be a way. Where's Madnar?"

"Good idea, he ought to know. Second floor of building 2, I think—that's about a click north, through the desert."

"First things first," Snake said, entering a room to the east, "we gotta get out of this prison."

"That," said a deep voice from behind them, "is where I come in."

_Chapter Notes: Another cliffhanger? Zounds! Yes, Drummond is a semi-important character. He will appear again. And yes, that deep voice is an existing character. No, I don't know Metal Gear's specs. I made them up based on what we know about it from later games._


	5. Shotgun and Choice

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: Wha' happened? School happened. Leaving me less time to work on this. Well, it's here now, so rejoice. Or not._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Five: Shotgun and Choice_

The tall, burly man confronting the two FOXHOUNDs was wearing a heavy flak vest and a police-style helmet. His weapon, a bizarre cross between revolver and rifle, was aimed in their direction, and it was clear he intended to use it.

"I am the Shotmaker," said he, "and I am the undisputed king of the automatic shotgun."

Snake finally identified the weapon as a South African Protecta, a semi-automatic shotgun with a 12-round cylinder magazine. He knew that a good hit from it would be fatal, and also knew that his only hope was to stall. Finally he blurted out, "I'm sure all entry teams bow down before your might."

In response, Shotmaker fired twice into the air. "Impudent FOXHOUNDs!" he roared. But this temporary distraction gave Fox the chance to fire at Shotmaker, forcing him to duck behind cover.

Snake did a tactical analysis of his surroundings. There were about a dozen medium size steel crates in the room which would protect him, and a few wooden boxes that would probably withstand a couple hits. Shifting his mind into gear, he dove past two steel crates and stopped behind a wooden one. "Cover!" he shouted to Fox, who obliged with two more shots.

Snake fired off a half dozen rounds at Shotmaker, but the only one to actually hit him was stopped by his flak vest. In response, Shotmaker blew a hole in the crate Snake was hiding behind, forcing the operative into the open.

Fox shot three more rounds at Shotmaker. One ripped across the front of his flak vest, revealing a layer of rubber suit across his stomach. Shotmaker's attention turned to Fox, firing four times at him and grazing his left arm. Fox winced slightly, but returned fire, hitting Shotmaker once in the arm and once squarely in the chest. The 14mm rounds were sufficient to stop the mercenary in his tracks, but not enough to destroy the flak jacket—and Fox now had an empty weapon. Shotmaker grinned and advanced for the kill.

He had barely gotten two feet, however, when Snake screamed, "Eat this!" and something hit the floor near Shotmaker and Fox. Both ran for cover; Shotmaker found some behind a steel crate.

He didn't see the muzzle of the pistol emerging from the damaged wooden box three feet away until Snake had already pulled the trigger twice, hitting Shotmaker in his exposed stomach.

After what seemed like an eternity, the mercenary fell to his knees, dropping the shotgun. The weapon discharged into the exposed wound, splintering bone and shredding viscera. Shotmaker was dead before he even felt pain.

------------------------------------------------

Snake stood, walked to the unprimed grenade he'd thrown, and pocketed it. After a moment, he dropped into a sitting position. He shook off a wave of nausea, lit up a cigarette, and tried not to think about the life he had just ended.

"First time?" inquired Fox. Snake did not respond, which was answer enough for Fox. Snake became aware that he was shaking visibly.

Fox knelt and gently said to Snake, "It's always toughest the first time you kill...I've seen loads of rookies freeze up at critical moments because they couldn't take it. You didn't freeze. That's a good sign...the fact that you're bothered by it now just means you're human."

"I'm not sure humanity has any place here," murmured Snake, but he knew Fox was right. He hadn't really thought about what he was doing at the time. He knew there were only two absolutes on a battlefield: life and death. Snake had opted for the former. _So why the hell do I feel so sick?_

Fox continued. "It's just too bad that people have the tools to end other peoples' lives. Some of the people with these tools don't use them wisely." Fox gestured toward the disemboweled corpse. "But you're different from him. You've got the freedom of choice, Snake."

"You think I chose to kill him?" spat Snake bitterly. "How do you figure I have any choice in who lives or dies here? How come I'm so different?"

"Because you haven't killed any of the Outer Heaven guards yet," Fox shot back. He paused a moment to let it sink in. "If you were a bloodthirsty killer, you'd have shot them all and never once looked back. You just killed a murderous, psychopathic freak with a shotgun who fired at you first, and you're feeling guilty about even _that_."

Snake said nothing.

"It's about choice, buddy boy...we choose who to fight and why. You're a fighter, Snake, and that's all you'll ever do—but you'll never lose that heart of yours, not till the day it stops beating." Fox stood. "And if you have any sense of gratitude, thank me by never letting that day come." Fox pointed to the remains of the cigarette in Snake's mouth. "You can start by quitting those damned things. They stunt your growth and ruin your health."

Snake extinguished the butt, holstered his pistol, and slowly rose to his feet. "I think for narrowly avoiding a belly full of buckshot, I should at least get a couple puffs."

Fox chuckled. "This solo sneaking mission brought to you by Philip Reynolds."

"Lucky Strikes, actually."

"Cancer doesn't know brand names. I'm gonna go for extraction; can you make it?"

Snake hesitated a brief moment—but only a moment—before nodding to Fox, who started towards the door. Snake stopped him, and Fox turned his head.

"Thanks...for everything."

Fox just smiled and waved, and jogged off into the darkness of the basement.

_Chapter Notes: This marks the first appearance of "choice", the theme of _Steel Dawn_. While Snake will find himself used in many situations, he still continues to fight. Why? In the words of Neo, "I fight because I choose to." So it is with our hero, who is probably cooler by now than even Keanu Reeves._


	6. Bullet Rain

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: I can no longer take the pressure. I have snapped. More importantly, I have updated. I am very, very sorry for the ridiculous delay._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Six: Bullet Rain_

By snooping around the basement level the prison was on, Snake was able to procure an enemy uniform, which he folded neatly and placed in his backpack. Traveling up to the second floor, he reached a long, unguarded corridor.

_Too quiet_, thought Snake. He called Schneider.

"I'm on the second floor," said Snake. "What's the deal with this unguarded hallway?"

"Laser traps," explained Schneider. "Infrared beams that sound an alarm if broken. Do you have thermal goggles?"

"Don't need 'em," replied Snake. He lit up a cigarette and blew the smoke into the hallway. The infrared beams became clear enough for Snake to avoid them.

Schneider was watching over Snake's wrist camera. "Clever," he said.

"Old, more like. Do you know how to get to building 2?"

"You'll need to go through the desert. The hallway doubles around and ends at an elevator. Go down a floor, through the warehouse, and out into the desert. Conserve your water supplies so you can get through. Schneider out."

Schneider's intelligence was impeccable, and every inch of the path Snake took was exactly as Schneider had described it. Upon reaching the warehouse, Snake decided a routine call to HQ was in order.

This call saved his life. As Snake knelt to fiddle with his transceiver, half a dozen bullets flew past the spot where his head had been. Snake rolled to his right and whipped out his MAC-11. "Taking heavy fire!" Snake cried into his transceiver. "Position, building 1, ground floor, a warehouse..." He paused, realizing that every word was broadcasting his position to the attacking enemy as well. Indeed, only a quick dive forward prevented the next volley of .45 caliber rounds from hitting Snake.

Determining that there was insufficient cover in the warehouse, save for some metal crates at the other end that were most likely in use, Snake retreated behind a wooden pillar. It would probably not withstand sustained fire, but it at least concealed his position.

"It's futile," shouted the attacker in a Texas twang. "The Machinegun Kid always gets his man! You can't stop the rain of bullets!" To counteract the effects of having his own location revealed, the Machinegun Kid jumped out of cover and emptied his dual Thompson M1921s into the air. Snake returned fire with his MAC-11, but to no avail, as the Kid was already hiding somewhere else. Snake seized the opportunity to dash behind the metal crates the Kid had been using. He waited about four seconds, then took a grenade out and pulled the pin.

Naturally, the Kid chose this exact moment to return to his original hiding position, now occupied by Snake. The latter punched the Kid in the face with the hand holding the grenade, stunning the would-be cowboy. Snake dropped the grenade at the Machinegun Kid's feet and ran.

He had nearly made it back to the elevator when the grenade exploded, obliterating the Kid. His Thompsons flew into the air, then fell and broke against the metal floor. Snake noticed, with some surprise, a distinct lack of emotion.

"Snake! What the hell happened?" cried Big Boss from the other end of the transceiver. Snake knelt again, paused to make sure nobody else was aiming at him, then responded, "I've taken out the Machinegun Kid. What do you know about him?"

"Expert with any sort of sub-machine gun, as the name implies. No one's ever escaped his 'Bullet Rain' technique! How the hell..."

"Walked between the raindrops. As I was saying before he interrupted, I'm in a warehouse, apparently south of a desert area. Madnar is north, through the desert."

"Roger that," nodded Big Boss. "You have your orders."

"I'm a little concerned," said Snake. "The Kid was lying in wait for me...they know I'm here. But I haven't been detected yet, expect by the prison guard. A leak somewhere...?"

Big Boss scratched his head thoughtfully. "Could be. Doubt it. You need the highest clearance to even know about this mission. I'll check it out. For now, just find Madnar."

"Got it. Snake out." With that, Snake lifted the huge metal sheet door at the north end of the warehouse and headed into the desert.

_Chapter Notes: Props to all (three) of my positive reviews! I'm not dead, just very inactive. As players of the game have no doubt ascertained, the pace of Steel Dawn is a bit faster than that of MG1. It's really hard for me to remember the sequence of events in this game, since it's so ancient and I beat it so long ago. Nevertheless, I think you'll like what little I accomplish._


	7. Desert Storm

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: Two updates in one week? It's true! The end is nigh! Of the first half of the fanfic, anyway. Oooh, I'm spoiling you._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Seven: Desert Storm_

The desert north of the warehouse was large and dry, as might be expected from a desert. Snake could barely glimpse building 2 in the distance to the north, but he could more clearly make some sort of outpost to the east, about 100 yards away. Snake set off for this latter structure, calling Schneider as he did so.

Of this outpost, Schneider knew only what was supposed to be stored there; namely, a pair of infrared goggles, a miniature portable mine detector, and an "M-79P".

Snake didn't recognize the designation. "What's that last one again?" he asked.

"It's a variant of the Blooper," explained Schneider. The M-79 "Blooper"—named for its distinctive firing sound, which often was a target's only warning to get the hell out of the way—was a highly reliable break-action grenade launcher used in the Vietnam era. Snake hadn't known there were any variations.

Schneider continued. "While the M-79 provided devastating anti-personnel power without the unwieldiness of a napalm launcher or unreliability of a hand grenade, the thing was still far from portable and its projectiles still susceptible to gravity. A German explosives manufacturer was commissioned to make a smaller and longer-ranged version. The result is in that shed to your left, on the bottom shelf." Schneider referred to the fact that, while he was talking, Snake had arrived at the outpost and reached the weapon shed.

Checking the shed, Snake discovered what looked like a 10-inch length of metal tube with a pistol grip. "This is it?" Snake asked incredulously. "It looks like they just sawed off most of the barrel from the old one."

"That, and they added a special propulsion system. The specially made grenades have two explosive charges in them—a small one, detonated by the weapon to send the grenade into the air, and a bigger one that explodes on impact."

"Sounds dangerous." Snake, who had been examining a belt of the grenades in question, quickly placed it back on the shelf.

"It was, until they fixed it for good—but too many casualties had resulted from misfires and the Army brass killed the project. About 25,000 were manufactured. We've got a bunch of these things lying around from a South African arms smuggling ring that supports us."

Snake took the grenade launcher and the mine detector, leaving his MAC-11 behind to make room in his backpack, and donned the grenade belt. "I'm heading for building 2 now."

"Don't let the chopper spot you."

Snake did a double take. "I didn't see any helicopter..."

"There's a helipad in that outpost; you didn't see it?"

"No, I did see the helipad, but..." Snake trailed off for a moment, then dashed out the door of the shed. Seconds later, an S-5 rocket hit the shed, destroying it with an enormous explosion. Snake threw himself to the ground, then scrambled to his feet and took off running.

"What the hell was that?" hollered Schneider.

"The chopper spotted me," Snake barked into his transceiver.

_Chapter Notes: In the game, Snake fought the helicopter on the roof of building 1 and encountered a tank in the desert. But you can't exactly dodge missiles on a rooftop, plus I'd already gotten to the desert area, so the tank was cut. It's not often I have to postpone a fight sequence one chapter, but I thought small updates were better than none._


	8. Man Versus Machine

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: Finally! God, this game is so friggin' hard to rewrite._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Eight: Man Versus Machine_

**Three minutes earlier**

"Are we there yet?" asked Michael Drummond.

"If you say that again," growled the man in front of him, "I will tie your genitals to the tail rotor in midair."

"I've only said it twice!" protested Drummond to the pilot. "How hard can it be to find a man on foot in the desert? He can't be at building 2 yet!"

The pilot leaned into his radio. "This is Skyrec-1," he announced. "Position is two clicks northwest of building 1 outpost."

"Roger, Skyrec-1. What's your status?"

"No sign of intruder. Are you sure he escaped and reached the desert? Please confirm."

"The Commander says that Shotmaker and the Machinegun Kid are both dead," replied the man in the control center. "Shotmaker was guarding the cell; the Kid was guarding the building 1 exit. Do the math."

"I see him!" Drummond cried enthusiastically.

"Where?" The pilot looked out the window and reached to turn on Drummond's weapon controls.

"No, wait, damn, that's just Ivan. No, turn on my controls, he owes me a hundred fifty bucks in wagers and I know the bastard's never gonna pay. Can I shoot him? Please?"

The pilot felt much the same way about Drummond. He briefly considered asking his technician to call HQ and ask permission to strangle the weapons system officer, but Drummond, for all his flaws, was the closest person who could operate the armament of the Mi-25 "Hind D" helicopter they were flying and was not on leave in the residential sector.

"Have you checked the building 1 outpost yet?" asked Drummond.

The pilot was about to yell at him when he realized Drummond had asked a valid question. _Wow,_ he thought. Rather than responding, he spoke into the radio.

"Skyrec-1 to base. Heading to building 1 outpost," the pilot declared.

"Roger that, Skyrec-1. Make sure to cut him off before he reaches the armory there."

"Too late!" Drummond pointed to the man darting into the shed in the barely-visible outpost. "Move closer, he's way out of range!" The pilot eagerly maneuvered the Hind above the shed.

"Burn!" cried Drummond, firing a single S-5 missile into the shed. Unfortunately, the intruder was quicker and as the missile was leaving the Hind, the intruder was leaving the shed at a similar speed.

The intruder was running pretty fast, but Drummond knew no man could outrun a 12.7mm machine gun. It all came down to how long this guy could hide, and whether or not he—what was that he was holding?

"Grenade!" yelled Drummond. He panicked and began smashing buttons rapidly, hoping that somewhere, anywhere, there was a "don't let me get killed" button.

"We're 500 feet above ground, dumbass," the pilot fairly screamed, turning around in order to further berate Drummond—but he was no longer there. Drummond had inadvertently ejected. The pilot cursed and turned to switch the weapons over to his control.

The first grenade from the M-79P hit the rotors on top, damaging them severely. The second landed in the place where Drummond's seat had been. It lay there for a moment, then exploded.

The pilot felt a sharp pain in his neck and tried to look down—but suddenly it was impossible to move. Through his rapidly fading vision he could see Drummond in his ejected seat, still fiddling with the controls—and suddenly Drummond's face was all the pilot could see.

_I told you so_, said Drummond, and the pilot cringed inwardly.

_I warned you, but did you listen?_

_Shut up!_ the pilot screamed in his mind. But Drummond would not go away.

_I warned you, didn't I? I warned you I warned you I warned you I warned you I warned you warned warned warned warned oh please_ _God don't let me die listening to this idiot—_

------------------------------------------------

The Hind hit the ground about a hundred feet behind Snake. The massive explosion seemed to engulf the entire outpost. For a long moment afterwards, there was a deathly, terrible silence.

Snake put the M-79P in his backpack and looked behind him. An man was sitting in an ejection seat covered by a parachute. _Presumably the sole survivor of the crash, _Snake guessed. He strode over to the seat and pressed the muzzle of his silenced Beretta to the outline of the man's forehead, visible through the parachute. "Hi there," he said conversationally.

"Please don't kill me," came the wail from under the fabric. "I have family."

"No you don't," corrected Snake.

"Damn it, how did you know?" sobbed the man.

"You just told me." With this, Snake shoved the parachute aside, revealing the guard Snake had encountered in the basement of building 1. He recognized Snake instantly, looking up with a mixture of awe and terror—and Snake knew he couldn't kill this man. He also knew that he couldn't let the soldier know that. Snake decided he could use the man.

"Are you injured?" asked Snake.

Drummond looked bewildered. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" Then, remembering that there was a gun to his head: "Mr. Intruder Man. Sir."

"Please, Snake. All my hostages call me Snake."

Drummond was caught off-guard by Snake's bizarre attitude. He recalled the negotiation course from his days as a volunteer sheriff's deputy, and began attempting to talk his assailant down: "I'm fine, I guess."

Snake instantly recognized that the man was trying to beat him at his own game. He needed to regain the upper hand. "We'll have to remedy that," he growled, punching Drummond in the gut. Drummond, unprepared for the blow, cried out.

Immediately, Snake was back to being the nice guy. "Relax, it's all right." Pause for effect. "The hospitals can fix anything if I don't touch your head."

"What the hell is this shit," Drummond spat between gasps of air. "You need two people for good cop/bad cop," he informed Snake.

In response, Snake hit Drummond with the butt of his pistol. "I'm no cop. I'm getting your help whether you like it or not."

"You'll have to shoot me first," screamed Drummond.

Snake took a step back and aimed his Beretta. "I know," he said, and fired.

_Chapter Notes: Oh boy! Super-cliffhanger! I know some people will dislike the fact that I showed a fight scene from the bad guy's perspective, but I think that it's pretty effective in this case. See, I _told_ you there was a reason for Drummond._


	9. Medical Attention

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: "It's been a long time, Snake." "I should have known you weren't going to update, Author." "Snake, the terrorists are preventing me from writing this thing." "Terrorists?" "Yeah, I've been watching way too much 24 recently. Also I'm lazy."_

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Nine: Medical Attention_

"I need some help here!" cried the figure in the desert.

The two sentries manning the building 2 entrance immediately leveled their rifles at the man staggering towards them. Then they saw he was wearing a uniform, as was the unconscious and bleeding soldier slung over the man's shoulder, and lowered their weapons, if not their guards.

"Medical attention! Man down!" the uniformed rescuer continued to shout as he approached. Upon arriving at the building door, he found that his path was being blocked by two very suspicious sentries. "What the hell are you people doing?" he glared. "We've got a wounded soldier here!"

The guards looked at each other. "What exactly seems to be the problem?" said one.

With some effort, the rescuer moved the unconscious body from his shoulder and shoved it into the arms of one of the guards. "Our intruder buddy took out the helicopter; miraculously this guy bailed just in time and survived with a couple bullets to the shoulder. Dog tags say Michael Drummond. Know him?"

The man not carrying Drummond shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, I think I owe him some money. About a hundred 'n' fifty bucks."

The rescuer became visibly annoyed. "Look, just get him to the med center; maybe he'll cut you some slack for saving his life." The sentries unlocked the building entrance, and the man holding Drummond's unconscious form jogged of in the direction of the infirmary as fast as he could while holding a body.

"What about you?"asked the second man.

"I've gotta get Madnar out of here. Third floor, right?"

"Nah, they moved him to the basement. Say, you want to kick some ass, meet me on the roof in fifteen minutes. I'm gonna load up on guns and take this sucker down."

"Roger that," said the rescuer. With that, he dashed off towards the elevator.

------------------------------------------------

As soon as he was safely in the elevator and out of sight, Snake removed the uniform and dumped it on the floor. Once again, the trick book had served him well, but the same gimmick was extremely unlikely to work twice. He drew his silenced Beretta and waited patiently for the elevator to reach the basement. When it did, Snake exited into a maze of brick corridors. The only guarded room was about eight yards to Snake's right, and there were two sentries in front of it. Snake, seeing no obvious solution to the problem, turned left in search of an alternate entrance.

_Chapter Notes: Hooray for completely obvious plot twists! That's really all I have to say._


	10. Alarm!

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: I've got to update more often. Luckily, thanks to Google Documents I can now work on this anywhere there is Internet access._

_Chapter Ten: Alarm!_

Michael Drummond awoke to find that he was not dead.

This was quite a surprise, to say the least. Also surprising was that he found himself on a bed in what he recognized as the building 2 med center. Instinctively, Drummond reached with his left arm to wipe his eyes, resulting in a sharp pain in his left shoulder and no arm movement.

Drummond tried to rememberr what had happened. The helicopter crashed, the intruder shot him in the shoulder..._must have blacked out from the pain_. Drummond silently cursed his lack of fortitude.

"Good, you're up," said someone from Drummond's left. Drummond rolled onto his side and saw one of the soldiers who was in charge of guarding the building entrance.

"Lucky that guy found you in time," noted the guard.

"Who?" Drummond tried to remember if he had been rescued.

"That guy on patrol in the desert. Saw the crash, picked you up before the intruder got to you. I wonder if we've found--"

Realization shot through Drummond's mind. In one swift movement, he sprang from the bed, snatched the guard's radio with his good arm, and screamed into it, "Intruder is in building 2! All units, maximum alert!"

_Three minutes earlier_

"Where's Madnar?" queried Snake.

The soldier Snake had surprised patrolling the building 2 basement said nothing. Pressing the muzzle of his Beretta to the man's head, Snake repeated, "Where is Madnar?"

Finally: "S...storage room B," the helpless grunt stuttered.

Snake grabbed the guard, dragged him away from the wall, and pushed his gun into the man's back. "Take me there. Move!"

Upon reaching the storage room, Snake kicked open the door and saw a thin, balding man gagged and tied to a chair. Snake knocked out the guard with a blow to the head and dragged him inside. The thin man opened his eyes wide at the sight of Snake and started struggling and shaking his head. "Dr. Madnar, I'm from FOXHOUND. I'm here to get you out," said Snake.

The man showed no signs of recognition, making a poor effort to back away--but the chair limited his movement, and Snake simply strode over and untied the man's gag. As soon as he did, the man screamed, "Get out! It's a trap!"

"A trap? Doctor, are you all right?"

"Madnar's on the roof!" cried the man. "Get out! Go! There's some sort of..." He trailed off, and looked at the corner above the door. Snake followed the man's eyes and saw a security camera above the door. A small light on it was blinking.

In a room in the basement of building 3, the man known as the Commander saw Snake turn on a security monitor, and spoke into a radio. "Blow it," he said simply.

_Chapter Notes: Zounds! Cliffhanger! Yeah, another filler chapter. Anyone get the impression I'm going too fast? The thing is, I don't really know how to fix that._


	11. Oscar Winning Performance

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: Less than a month between updates?! Clearly, there is a rift in the space-time continuum compressing the fabric of time itself, allowing me to actually do the two hours of work a chapter takes in two hours without sitting on my ass for two weeks! _

_Chapter Eleven: Oscar Winning Performance_

The security camera network in Outer Heaven revolved around three security hubs, one in each building. Each camera was connected by cables to the hub for its building. A network of radio transmitters carried the signal from each hub to the two other hubs and the Commander's bunker beneath building 3.

The trap that had been laid for Snake, when activated, would have sent an electric pulse to the security camera in storage room B of the building 2 basement. This would detonate a quantity of C-4 connected to the camera, destroying the entire room. The failure of this pulse to arrive immediately following the Commander's order can be directly attributed to Drummond's decision to make a radio call at the exact moment the radio signal was sent out, causing interference that ultimately resulted in a loss of about four seconds.

In these four seconds, Snake bolted from the room. He had gotten perhaps ten feet when the C-4 detonated, killing the thin man and the unconscious grunt inside.

Snake cursed under his breath. The elaborate trap meant that if the enemy hadn't known about the intruder in their midst before, they certainly did now. Factor in the explosion, and Snake figured he had maybe a minute before they reached his position. _Somewhere_, Snake decided, _there is a God of Stealth Missions, and he hates me._

Having allowed himself a moment for self-pity, Snake scrambled to his feet and did what he was sure the enemy would not expect him to do--he kicked the door to storage room B off its one remaining hinge and entered. The thin man's chair had disintegrated in the blast, as had most of the soldier's face.

"This'll do," murmured Snake to no one in particular.

_Resistance Hideout Comm Center, four minutes later_

"What've you got, Diane?" asked Schneider.

The female analyst removed her earphones and handed it to the resistance leader. "This is coming through on the building 2 guard team's frequency," she said. "It's not pretty."

"Nothing ever is," grumbled Schneider. He donned the headset and caught most of the transmission.

_...are dead. I repeat, the intruder and Madnar are dead._

_Bravo team, do you have confirmation?_

_I'd say so, HQ. Storage room B is destroyed, and there's two bodies here. One's definitely Madnar; Carver brought this guy down here an hour ago himself. The other one's got a silenced pistol and a backpack with...lemme see here...a mine detector and a grenade launcher. No radio, dog tags, nothing. Looks like him, HQ._

"Kyle?"

_Copy that, Bravo team. Any idea what caused the blast?_

_Well, that's the funny thing, HQ. The blast residue looks like some kind of plastic explosive, but there's not a brick of the stuff to be found on this whole floor. All the C-4 is on the third floor, in the armory. If we had forensics or something down here..._

_I'll see who we can get from the residential sector. __Good work, Bravo. Over._

"Kyle, I'm getting a call. I need the earphones."

Schneider blinked and turned to Diane. "A call? From who?"

"Well, I won't know without the earphones, now will I, Kyle?" Diane stood up, took the earphones from Schneider's head, and placed them on her own. She spoke into the microphone on her control board. "This is Diane Segal."

"This is Solid Snake. Schneider wasn't answering his transceiver. Is he there?"

Diane was momentarily dumbstruck. "Uh, hold on." She turned to Schneider. "It's Snake."

This time it was Diane's turn to have the earphones yanked from her head. "Gimme the mic," barked Schneider with uncharacteristic force. When this order was obeyed, Schneider fairly yelled, "What the hell are you doing alive?"

"Sorry about that. Had to put on a show for the cavalry. I take it they're captivated by that grunt's performance as me?"

Schneider sighed with visible relief. "And the award for Best Direction of a Fake Death Scene goes to..."

"First things first. Madnar wasn't Madnar. The guy who was faking it tells me the real guy is on the roof. Can you tell me if there's anything to that before I go on another wild goose chase?"

"Possible. There's a rooftop heating and ventilation facility. That's where he'd be if he's up there."

"On my way. By the way, are you on a secure line?"

Schneider frowned. "No one else can hear your end. Why?"

"Do you have any reason to doubt the trustworthiness of your people? There was a trap set for me and I'm starting to think there might be a leak."

Schneider's expression remained neutral as he said, "I'll look into it. You'd better get to the roof and find Madnar."

_Chapter Notes: I am very, very proud of this chapter. The first bit is on par with the Drummond and Snake scene in chapter 8, IMHO. Which hardly makes it great literature, but eh. Metal Gear / The Grapes of Wrath. I hated that book anyway._


	12. Doctor and Daughter

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: Over a year since I started...wow. Gotta update more! Gah!_

_Chapter Twelve: Doctor and Daughter_

The roof, mercifully, was unguarded.

Though Snake reasoned that it would have been slightly odd if there were guards on the rooftop, he still found himself looking over his shoulder more often than usual. With his silenced pistol and grenade launcher left behind in order to make his demise convincing, Snake was now unarmed and considerably more on edge than before. It was clear to Snake that being spotted now would mean death, preferably self-inflicted rather than after being tortured and having the nature of his mission extracted.

_Let's not think about that right now_, Snake told himself.

The ventilation facility was essentially a two-room shack on the roof. One room contained an opening into the vents; the other held various controls, switches, and other instruments of cooling. A wiry man in a dirty lab coat was handcuffed to a pipe. Snake, standing at a safe distance in the other room, called out to the man. Turning his head to see Snake, the man immediately soiled himself and began to scream at the top of his lungs.

"Take it easy, I'm not gonna hurt you!" yelled Snake, putting his hands over his ears.

There was no reaction, only continued screaming. Snake finally stormed into the room and punched his next objective across the jaw. This shut Madnar up very quickly; he curled up into a ball with only an occasional whimper escaping.

Snake spoke quietly and deliberately. "Dr. Madnar, I'm here to rescue you, but my patience is rather limited right now. Please do not test me by wailing to wake the dead while I'm attempting to be sneaky."

Madnar, shivering, stammered, "Th-th-th-the key is on t-t-top of one of these p-p-p-panels. Please, j-just get me out of here."

Snake found it on one of the highest panels, on the opposite side of the small room from Madnar. Unlocking the cuffs, he admonished, "Get a hold of yourself, Doctor; we've got a lot to do and I can't take you along if you're a sobbing wreck."

Madnar slowly drew himself up to his full height of five feet five inches. "Are you here for information about Metal Gear?"

"That's right. What have you got for me?"

Madnar reached into his coat and removed a small container. Handing it to Snake, he said, "This microfilm has the original blueprints for Metal Gear. The original design is Russian, and though the Americans built several prototypes from these blueprints, Outer Heaven ended up building the first major upgrade. This model is designated TX-55."

Snake began to walk, and Madnar followed. "Cut to the chase. How far can it launch a nuke?"

"Only about 1200 KM. Not terribly effective, but it's certainly more mobile than an entire silo."

"So its missiles couldn't reach any major cities...What the hell are they using it for, then?"

"Don't ask me. I only built the thing."

"How'd they pressure you into doing that?"  
"They...they have my daughter."

Snake wheeled on Madnar. "You have a _daughter?_" Snake hated hostages, and he wasn't too keen on kids, either.  
"She's thirteen years old! She has her whole life ahead of her! What was I to do?"

Snake cursed. "Where are they holding her?"

"The basement of this building. Please help her! She's just a little girl!"

Snake thought a moment, then dialed Schneider. "I need to set up a rendezvous with someone who can escort a couple hostages to safety."

"I'll put Jennifer on it. Her frequency's 120.48 if you need to contact her. Where are you?"

"Send her to the prison in the building 2 basement. I'll be there shortly. Snake out."

_Ten minutes later_

As hostages went, Madnar was fairly tolerable. He kept out of the way and followed Snake's orders, and when he lost his nerve, a quick glower was sufficient to convince him to hop to it, whatever "it" might be. It was not long before Snake had reached the prison.

The situation there was not good. The prison was up in flames, and most of its guards were dead. Unfortunately, Jennifer was nowhere to be found.

"Ellen!" wailed Madnar.

"If you don't see a corpse, shut the hell up," growled Snake. He dialed frequency 120.48.

"Jennifer Freeman, who's this?" came the voice on the other end.

"This is Snake. I'm outside the prison; this better not have been you," Snake warned.

"Er, what now?"

"The fire, the death, et cetera...you're saying that's not your doing?"

"Not my style," Jennifer assured him. "I just came from there a few minutes ago. I heard the guards were looking there for you, so I got the girl out of there. She's a little shaken up, but no physical damage."

Snake gave Madnar an "OK" sign with his right hand, visibly relieving the doctor. "So what's with the fire, then?"

The answer to Snake's question was, at that very moment, flying towards him from behind...

_Chapter Notes: I hate the formatting that comes from trying to save a Google Document in .odt formatting with Firefox. Also: Here it comes, folks, another major battle! Cue rockin' boss music!_


	13. Flames of Sin

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: This took entirely too long to complete and I hate myself for being lazy. Languishing incomplete for over six months on Google Docs, I finished like three paragraphs and submitted it today._

_Chapter Thirteen: Flames of Sin_

The immediate answer to Snake's question was a large ball of napalm, about a foot in diameter. Snake's instincts sensed it coming, and the glow it emitted was visible, even facing in the opposite direction. The primary reason that he was not killed, however, was largely due to Madnar's screaming and fleeing. Snake hit the deck and the napalm ball hit the floor. The flames caught Snake's leg and he had to roll over several times to extinguish it. Snake staggered to his feet and turned to face his newest adversary.

The weapon which the napalm had come from resembled an oversize water blaster, with a large chamber at the back and several pressurized nozzles attached to a rotating barrel at the front. There was a hose in the back extending into a fuel backpack. The wearer of this backpack was a large man in an ash-stained white bomb suit and aviator goggles; his most striking feature was his pure white hair, which bore a resemblance to a bizarre albino shrubbery. Snake was fairly dumbfounded by the combination of the sudden attack and the appearance of someone who had more weapons than Snake himself.

"You missed," Snake said, not really as a taunt but because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"A shame," replied the man in the bomb suit. "I would have loved to see you burn. Wouldn't that have been a sight to see." He wiped some sweat from his brow and cleaned his goggles with it. "It truly is a pleasure to watch a rookie soldier like yourself, surviving his battles through sheer luck, cleansed in the flames of Pyro Bison." He chuckled. "That's me," he added, adjusting his goggles.

"That codename...are you FOXHOUND?" asked Snake. "Must have been tough for you to limit collateral."

"In a way. I use my own custom blend of fuel, you see," he explained, fiddling with a knob on the weapon's side. "My flame burns more purely and more fiercely than any other." Suddenly he raised the weapon and launched a tongue of flame in Snake's direction; it was not really intended to hit, but regardless Snake barely managed to avoid fiery death. Bison, however, didn't miss a beat. "FOXHOUND had no appreciation for the beauty of my flames. They never deployed me in two years. Two whole years of my loyalty and nothing in return." Bison turned the knob again and fired another napalm ball at Snake, who dove out of the way again. "So I got out. Turned mercenary. Saw the world, met interesting new people, burned them to death. But it got old after a while. Without anything to fight for, setting folks on fire was surprisingly repetitive. Almost routine." Another napalm ball. Snake hit the floor and stayed there for a moment, panting.

"We all look the same well-done?" he gasped.

"Absolutely not!" Snake intended to humor the better-armed man, but Bison seemed to take great offense. "The Commander showed me the way. A man's soul is highly flammable, he told me. And it's true!" It was obvious to Snake, from the childlike glee he sensed in Bison's words, that the man was totally insane. "Every person burns differently. Did you know that, Snake? The way the skin scorches, the fat burns, the innards char--it changes from person to person. And you see there the burdens of their sin...are you a sinner? Are you ready to be cleansed in the flames of purgation, Solid Snake?" He laughed maniacally.

Snake registered that Bison knew his codename, but was otherwise barely able to process this monologue as he rolled over onto his back. "I surrender," he coughed at last.

This caught Bison's attention. "What?

"You heard me." Snake began the long, arduous journey to his feet. "It's painfully obvious. You have a weapon, I am unarmed; I have a civilian to protect, you do not; I am totally exhausted, you are totally insane. My chances of escaping from a cell again are far better than my chances of beating you as is." Standing, Snake placed his hands behind his head. Looking behind Bison, he added, "Don't bother, Madnar."

Bison turned to face Madnar--but the doctor was not actually there. By the time Bison realized it was a trick, Snake was already delivering a leaping kick to the back of Bison's head. Both men hit the floor hard.

Snake grabbed Bison's flame launcher, hoping to yank it away, and was immediately impeded by the hose. Bison reached for the weapon, but grabbed the hose instead. Snake yanked again, partially detaching the hose from the fuel chamber and pouring gasoline onto the floor--but the sudden shift in weight caused Snake to drop the weapon, and the gasoline caused it to slide across the floor. Bison smashed Snake across the face, knocking him away. Snake collapsed in a heap about five feet away. Bison crawled over to the flame launcher, scooped it up, and got to his feet. He slowly stumbled through the puddle of gasoline and placed the nozzle of the flame launcher to Snake's forehead.

"You'll never make another mistake like that again," threatened Bison.

"Watch me," retorted Snake, tossing the cigarette he'd retrieved into the gasoline puddle. Bison, stunned, found himself able only to watch as Snake scrambled out of the way.

"A fitting end, then. I die in the heart of the fire!" cried Bison as the flames reached him. "The flames--I'm burning--GOD, YES!"

The fire reached Bison's fuel backpack.

_About forty-five seconds later_

For the second time that day, Snake awoke to find that he was not dead. Rolling over onto his back, he saw that almost every part of the prison that was not previously on fire was now either ablaze or filled with smoldering rubble.

"Madnar!" yelled Snake. Getting to his feet, he glanced around and saw Madnar was trapped by his legs beneath a pile of debris. Moving closer, Snake discovered a complication; one of Madnar's feet was impaled on a three-foot piece of metal. Madnar was holding up fairly well, but Snake was sure that, without any way of sealing the wound, removing the metal would cripple the doctor and make him impossible to escort to safety.

It was at this point that Snake realized his transceiver had been ringing the entire time. The explosion had momentarily deafened Snake in one ear, and only now did his hearing begin to return. Snake fumbled for the switch on his transciever and switched to RECIEVE.

"Are you in there, Snake?" shouted Jennifer.

"In _where_?"

"The fire, the death, et cetera...you're saying that's not your doing?"

"Shut up and get us the hell out of here!" screamed Snake.

Jennifer had thought to bring a fire extinguisher, thankfully, and it was not long before the barriers of fire and rubble that had blocked Snake and Madnar from leaving the prison were out of the way. Through the smoke came a lanky, bespectacled teenager in cargo pants and a t-shirt, armed with a shotgun and holding a red-haired young girl by the hand.

"Dada!" cried the latter, rushing to Madnar. Madnar wept as his daughter embraced him, and the two spent a few moments in silence.

"Heartwarming," murmured Jennifer, moving over to bandage Madnar's wound.

Snake was staring at her oddly. Eventually she cursed. "It's the freckles, isn't it? None of our other field agents have freckles."

Finding himself at a loss for words, Snake finally stammered, "How _old_ are you?"

"Seventeen, and just so you know I go for my Mossberg before I blow the rape whistle. If you so much as breathe on me creepy you'll be picking up your testicles with your toes."

Snake noted inwardly that he had now officially met more weird characters in this single day than in the entire previous twenty-three years of his life. "Whatever. Can you get these two out of my hair?"

Jennifer nodded. Striding over to Madnar and Ellen, she said, "I'll take you guys from here. We'd better go."

Madnar beckoned to Snake. "Are...are you going to destroy Metal Gear?"

"I'm gonna try," assured Snake.

"You'll need this," Madnar warned. He gave Snake a slip of paper, with a sequence of Ls and Rs on it. "It's the self-destruct mechanism for Metal Gear. There are buttons on the back of each leg, press them in this order and--"

"Wait wait wait. The _back_ of the _legs_?"

"Yes, it can't hit you from there. What?"

Snake just sighed. "Couldn't you have put in a self-destruct button?"

"I was trying to make the sequence undectectable. It's safer this way," he explained, timidly.

"For you, maybe," muttered Snake.

"Love to stay and chat," interrupted Jennifer, "but it's now or never. Move your asses."

"You got a spare sidearm I can have?" asked Snake.

Jennifer did a double-take. "You beat Bison without a gun?" Snake nodded, and it was Jennifer's turn to be speechless. After a few moments she removed a mid-sized handgun from a back pocket and handed it to Snake. Taking the weapon, Snake wracked his brain for upwards of ten seconds before recognizing it as a Sig-Sauer P226, of the .40 caliber model with 12-round magazine. He spent a few moments familiarizing himself with the weapon.

"I'm gonna need ammo," he said simply, and Jennifer held out a couple clips. He loaded one and pocketed the other, then noticed that Jennifer, Ellen, and Madnar were already sneaking, walking, and hobbling towards the elevator respectively. Snake caught up and held the door open for them. He asked Jennifer, "How long will it take you to get to safety and back? I could use an extra gun."

"Twenty minutes, maybe fifteen," Jennifer told him. "Meet me on the second floor; Schneider's got a couple other things he wants taken care of before we go after Metal Gear."

"Anything I'm not gonna like?" Snake smelled more hostages.

She briefly flashed a small, wry smile. "Probably all of it," she said simply through the closing doors.

_Chapter Notes: Bison, straight out of Metal Gear: Ghost Babel for Game Boy Color, replaced the thoroughly bland "Fire Trooper" from the original MSX game. Also, the self destruct sequence in the game just meant that placing mines on the legs in a specific order was the only way to destroy Metal Gear._


	14. New World Order

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: So I just got Super Smash Bros. Brawl...yeah. The presence of Snake as a playable fighter motivated me to start this up again. This fic will nevar die, unless I tell you so; dropping off the face of the Internet is merely a side effect of laziness._

_Chapter Fourteen: New World Order_

Snake was starting to get tired.

He'd lost count of how long he had been on his feet, and only as he finished climbing the stairs to the second floor did fatigue begin to set in. He pushed open the stairwell exit door, glanced down the new hallway, and, seeing no enemies, slid down to the floor. _Pace yourself. You're only human._

Snake wiped his mind of thoughts for a few moments. A few deep breaths. _Keep it together. Don't lose it now._

Scenes from the mission flashed before Snake's eyes: Shotmaker lying face-down on the floor, his abdomen ripped apart by his own buckshot. The Machinegun Kid's dual Thompsons in pieces on the floor. The wreckage of the helicopter in the desert. Pyro Bison being consumed by flames.

And one more: Snake himself, in a pool of blood, with the faceless Commander standing over him.

Snake, curious, went beyond this image and saw many more: Madnar watching his daughter shot, crying his eyes out before he was himself killed. Outer Heaven shock troops storming the resistance headquarters, killing everyone. Schneider's limp corpse on the gallows, swaying slightly. Metal Gear preparing to fire a nuclear missile. Newspaper headlines: Paris Pulverized with Nukes, Tokyo Decimated by Terrorists, New York Destroyed in Nuclear Attack.

The Commander again, planting the flag of Outer Heaven on the White House lawn.

_There's your future, Snake. Unless you get off your ass and finish your mission, that's your preview of coming attractions.  
_

And Snake was running, running down the hallway towards he didn't know where. It hardly mattered. He had made his choice.

_The government sector, Outer Heaven_

"And I'm telling you he's served his purpose. Kill him."

The man being spoken to ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. Fifty-one in December and almost entirely gray, he was sure the stress of having to take orders like this one would kill him before he was sixty-five. "He's too smart for his own good. We just can't kill a man with this kind of cunning."

The other man took a long drag of his cigar. He leaned forward over the table. "Are you telling me," he intoned slowly, "that he's _smarter_ than you?"

The first shrugged and murmured something in Russian. "He's a rookie," he explained. "He's unpredictable. If he was a professional, maybe. As it is, there's just no telling what trick he'll try next."

"_I_ know what he'll try next. And I know how to counter it," stated the man with the cigar matter-of-factly. "And your repeated failures to do the same have put you in a very bad place."

The mustachioed man scoffed. "You gonna have me whacked? Have me executed by firing squad, hmm, _Commander_?"

"Tempting, but no," chuckled the other. "You're fired."

The other man blinked. "That's right," the Commander continued. "You've lost your place in my new world order. You're outta here, Adam. Take a hike."

"You can't _fire_ me!" the man called Adam cried. "This isn't a Goddamn corporation! We're _mercenaries_, we don't-"

In an instant, the Commander had his second-in-command in a stranglehold against the wall. "Listen carefully. I will only say this one more time. Are you listening?"

It was all the Russian could do to nod.

"Good. _You_ are a mercenary. You and your little pack of wolves you've assembled are mercenaries. _I_ am a visionary. I am a leader of men. I am _Commander_, and when I give a command, _you follow it._" His point made, the Commander released Adam, who fell to the floor and coughed weakly.

"Don't look so defeated. There's still work for you to do."

Adam looked up at the Commander, bewildered. "You just fired me," he wheezed.

"Not yet. I'm not done with you yet, but I am _this close_." The Commander leaned in and indicated how close, then turned away. "Get back to Washington. I'm gonna need some favors called in."

_Longitude -32.438, Latitude 13.546_

He adjusted his tie and looked in the mirror. _Another day in paradise_, he thought, with just a hint of irony.

He checked his watch. Eight forty-five. Fifteen minutes to the big meeting. Plenty of time.

For a moment, he frowned. The movers and shakers in the office had been intentionally avoiding him. There was something he was not being told. There usually was. This time, though, it seemed that whatever he was missing was important.

_Either they tell me eventually_ _and_ _we'll deal with it,_ he reasoned, _or they don't and we won't. Not worth worrying about_.

The buzzer rang, followed by two sharp knocks on the cabin door. The signal belonging to the one man who never kept secrets from him. "Come in, Roy."

Roy poked his head in. "They're waiting for you in the top deck conference room."

"Are they going to tell me what all this is about?"

A double take. "All what, sir?"

"_You_ know."

Roy hesitated. Then: "I've asked them to think it over, sir. Bringing you in the loop, I mean."

"Thank you, Roy."

Roy smirked wryly. "Least I could do, Mr. President."

_Chapter Notes: Quick one before they delete this fic. I added some subplots...yeah._


	15. Uh Oh

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: I'm still cooking up the next chapter; it's halfway done already so I just wanted to get this in. Coming next week/month/year/interval on _Metal Gear Solid_: an epic chapter spanning TWO boss battles! Zounds!_

_Chapter Fifteen: Uh Oh_

Twenty minutes turned out to be a very relative period of time.  
If the path to the elevator room where Jennifer would probably be--up the stairwell, through a two-story water treatment plant in the middle of building 2, up and down a bunch of corridors, and finally to the elevator room--had been unobstructed, a marathon Olympic runner could have cleared it in five minutes; Snake could probably do it in eight, despite the darkness broken only by the orange glow of the "high alert" lights.  
Since Snake had to spend a total of three minutes (each minute lasting approximately two hours) dodging around the many patrols posted in each hallway due to the alert status, twenty minutes suddenly seemed a highly oppressive time constraint. By the time he reached the elevator room, Snake was simply out of patience.  
Of course, because things just didn't tend to go right on this mission, there were two huge, burly guards on either side of the elevator hallway, each blocking a door. They were facing each other, with the closer one looking past the one farther away. No way in hell to get past them sneakily.  
Frustration had taken its toll on Snake, and he decided this would be a good time to use his new Sig-Sauer. Dispensing entirely with nonviolence, he stormed into the room and shot the farther man in the head. As he fell, Snake turned to the closer target and fired twice, hitting once in the back, near where the kidneys should be, and once in the back of the skull.  
_ Clank._  
The second bullet, rather than going straight through or burying itself deep within the body as the first had, ricocheted off the head of the second guard entirely. At first, Snake thought he was wearing a helmet--but at this range, a .40 cal wouldn't be deflected entirely except by at least five inches of metal and kevlar, and the head Snake had just shot wasn't helmeted at all.  
But neither did it have hair, Snake noticed upon closer examination. In fact, the entire head was so shiny it looked as if it was made of...  
Metal.

--

In FOXHOUND's file on Drago Pettrovich Madnar, there were several sections that would have been quite interesting to Snake, notably what was known of Madnar's previous work prior to his disappearance eight months ago. Madnar had been an expert in all sorts of metal combat machines. Notably, he had created one of the first prototype powered armors. The completed prototype was deemed too unwieldy and expensive for individual soldiers' use, but another note stated that Madnar had been working to add an automated feature to the armor, allowing it to function as a battle drone.  
FOXHOUND intelligence indicated at least one such unit was completed. It was codenamed TX-5, nickname "Bloody Brad."

_Chapter Notes: In true _Lost _fashion, this chapter does not answer the big question from our last episode. I__n the game, there are two Bloody Brad robots (called "Arnold" in the Japanese version, presumably after the current governator of California and former _Terminator _star) guarding the route to a rocket launcher--which is the only weapon that damages them, so the player should be prepared to take some serious punishment while trying to run past them. They have no attacks; they are only capable of damaging Snake on contact. Not quite a deadly foe, so I spruced up Brad and put in only one of him. _


	16. Bloody Brad

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: Funny story, this. I had a good part of this chapter on the Windows clipboard and I accidentally copied some other text and lost it all. Demoralizing, to say the least. _

_Chapter Sixteen: Bloody Brad_

Madnar had not entered the equation until Snake was already on site, so he really couldn't be faulted for not reading the doctor's file. Not being at fault, however, did not help Snake's situation--namely, standing behind a killer robot that he had just shot in the head, to no effect. As the robot began to turn, little warning klaxons began to go off inside Snake's brain: Flee! Flee!  
Snake did so, taking off at full speed in the opposite direction. Halfway down the previous hallway, the door burst open and Snake glimpsed a half dozen soldiers coming through with assault rifles.  
Hide! Hide! screamed the warning klaxons. The nearest cover was a metal barrier, about waist-high, jutting out of the wall, probably intended for the guards' use. Snake ducked behind it _before_ coming to the reasonable conclusion that the barrier could not possibly hide him from both the robot and the guards. Snake was on the side with the robot barreling towards him.  
"Killer robot, twelve o'clock!" Snake said aloud. The soldiers looked down the hall and, luckily for Snake, saw the charging mass of metal first. "Fire at will!" proclaimed the squad leader, and they did, the bullets ricocheting off of the machine like so many flies.  
The squad leader tried to duck behind the metal barrier and collided with Snake. The soldier attempted to cry out, but Snake slammed his head into the man's stomach. As he doubled over, the FOXHOUND quickly reached up and twisted the soldier's neck. The corpse fell, and Snake swiftly pushed him behind the barrier and relieved him of his weapon, a SPAS-12 semi-automatic shotgun. This entire sequence of events took no more than two seconds.  
The soldiers were still firing, and the robot was still ignoring them. The machine raised its right arm, revealing a wicked-looking multi-barreled machine gun. As the weapon began to spin up, the soldiers scrambled for cover. "Fall back!" shouted one, and they did.  
Snake vaulted over the metal barrier and quickly attempted to gauge the distance between himself and the metal monster. About a hundred feet and gaining extremely fast. Stowing the shotgun, Snake dialed first Schneider, who did not answer, then Jennifer, who did, albeit with a curt "What?"  
"Rocket launcher," barked Snake. He retrieved the shotgun and made for the door as fast as as his crouched stance allowed. But the rocket launcher failed to materialize out of thin air. "What about it?" were Jennifer's words.  
"Get one to the elevator room before this metal bastard skins me alive!" Snake burst into a full-on run and kicked the door down. The soldiers had largely dispersed, but one remained, and he quickly swiveled towards Snake and went for his gun.  
Snake ran directly into the man and slammed him against the wall, then threw him to the ground. A quick shove with the sole of Snake's boot rolled the man into the path of the ex-door. Snake estimated this would buy him about three seconds, maybe more if the robot tripped and fell. After that, it came down to a test of endurance and quick thinking. A lot of ifs and maybes. _If I can get to the end of this hallway intact, maybe I can lose this thing in the corridors. Maybe it won't have infrared vision. Maybe I'd better not find out. If I slow down, I'm a dead man. Maybe this little door here is a shortcut to an exit somewhere and not, for instance, a supply closet._  
The good news was that the door was not a supply closet--it opened onto a short corridor leading into a small, dank room. The bad news was that, as far as Snake could see in the near-total darkness, this room was a dead end. At least Snake had a few moments to catch a breath which could very well be his last, depending on whether the robot could see through the walls. Snake took cover in the corner and prepared for his last stand.  
Fate didn't appear to be very happy with Snake at the moment--"Bloody Brad" did, in fact, have a prototype infrared sensor (crippled by its inability to tell friend from foe), and even without knowing this, Snake could hear the machine barreling down the hall towards the small door he had entered. But as Snake leaned back against the wall, he felt his back press against something; large, metallic, circular...  
A valve.  
Of course. He was inside one of the tanks in the water treatment room he'd passed around.  
The door burst open as the robot charged through the wall. As it reached the corner, Snake threw himself backwards onto the floor, raised the shotgun and fired two blasts into the valve. The spray of water hit "Brad" in the lower back, where Snake's bullet had pierced just enough of the metal plating for the water to reach vital circuits. Even while the robot aimed menacingly at Snake, hisses, crackles, and the smell of dying electricity informed him that his mechanical antagonist was no more.  
Snake breathed a curse and lay back. For a moment there was nothing he valued more in the universe than the particular shotgun in his hands, no corporate entity more benevolent than Franchi S.p.A. Then the room began to fill with water, and Snake was being dragged to his feet by Jennifer.  
"You sure make a lot of noise for a man on a stealth mission," she quipped.  
"Shouldn't you be in school or something?" was all Snake could think to say.  
Jennifer shrugged. "What's the point? They fill your head with whatever lies are convenient and expect you to write papers about it when they're done. The Resistance may not be the best foster home but it beats the hell out of calculus."  
"Your parents...war casualties?"  
"My mother was. Never knew my father, so I guess Schneider was like a father figure. With Carl and Steve gone..." She was distant for a moment, then frowned at Snake. "What the hell do you care, anyway?"  
"Call me a bleeding heart. Where are we going exactly?"  
"To the computer room on level 3." She was all business again. "There's a senior Outer Heaven official holed up in there, fooling around with hostages. One of them is my brother, Steve." She looked at him with steel eyes. "We're getting him out."  
Snake nodded. It occurred to him that FOXHOUND might want intel off of the Outer Heaven computers. Snake dialed his transceiver to 120.85, Big Boss's frequency, and turned the knob to TRANSMIT.  
There was no response. Snake tried again and got only static.  
"The hell?" he mumbled.

_The Atlantic Ocean, thirty minutes prior_  
"Metal...Gear?"  
"The codename for some sort of superweapon, possibly nuclear," elaborated Big Boss. "We have two agents working with the resistance to find--"  
"Agents? Resistance?" General Jackson threw up his hands. "_Now_ you brief me on this. Your 'crack operatives'," he snorted, the quotation marks nearly audible, "are relying on anarchists seeking to overthrow their government to get information on whether African dictator number eleven thousand is building what may or may not be a weapon of mass destruction. And it never occurred to you to go to the regular army?"  
Big Boss sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. "The word of one man on an illegal reconnaissance mission didn't seem worthy of the Joint Chiefs' attention. We needed more evidence, and we went in to get it, and now we have it."  
"Because God forbid you should ask permission," the General cried. "And to do what? Take down this 'Commander' and his 'Outer Heaven'? More like Outer Jersey, for all we need to care about it." Big Boss bristled, but the General was not finished. "Ever heard the term 'international incident'? Where do you get off--"  
"Ever heard the term "executive order"?" Big Boss suddenly spoke, and Jackson flinched. "National Security Decision Memorandum 99c, classified Top Secret: 'Having determined that the tools available to federal agencies and the United States Armed Forces are insufficient to shield against a significant foreign threat to the safety and security of America and her allies, I hereby inaugurate the covert operations unit FOXHOUND, effective immediately, and appoint as its Commander the individual codenamed Big Boss to defend the United States against all enemies, answering solely to the Commander in Chief' and so on and so forth. Signed this 31st day of January 1971 by Richard Milhouse Nixon." He recited all of this from memory, but with quiet intensity; a preacher recalling a favorite passage from the Good Book. "In other words..." he leaned across the table and peered into Jackson's eyes with his own good eye "...I don't have to take orders from you, or anyone else whose name isn't 'Mr. President'."  
He leaned back. There was silence for some time. Jackson shifted uncomfortably. Finally Big Boss stood.  
"When the President gets here," he said, "you're going to brief him. I recommend you take this more seriously. If he needs me, there's a radio in the helicopter." He moved to leave, but Jackson stopped him.  
"You--you've been on this ship less than fifteen minutes! You can't just drop this in my lap and head off to--where are you going, exactly?"  
"To finish it."

_Chapter Notes: It's here it's here OH MY GOD IT IS FINALLY HERE. What? Fanfic, wha..? No, I mean Metal Gear Solid 4 which was released in the YEAR AND A HALF since I started this stupid fic. So sorry, loyal fans; it's increasingly hard to get Snake out of the trouble I put him in._


	17. Rescue and Revelation

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: I wrote this chapter during class while I was supposed to be listening. Inspiration strikes at the oddest of times._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Seventeen: Rescue and Revelation_

"So you've come."

The Outer Heaven official did not look the part; in truth, it was difficult to discern whose part he did look. Kevlar body armor partially concealed by a checkered red-and-blue sweater vest; a green Donald Duck baseball cap over a face mask; long tan slacks with an empty holster hanging from the right side.

The weapon itself was in the man's left hand and pressed to the left temple of a hostage, who was making no attempt to shake off the arm around his neck. Snake could see two more hostages in the recesses of the room; the dimmed lighting made it hard to tell if they were rigged with explosives, but the object in the mercenary's right hand indicated that there was a trick somewhere up his sleeve.

As Snake had suspected, Jennifer's shotgun would be of no use. Still, he motioned for her to remain in the doorway as he stepped forward. _Just in case_.

"Dirty Duck. Last and best of the Outer Heaven freaks. Don't come any closer!" The mercenary suddenly tightened his grip on the hostage. Snake halted. "Good boy. Good listener. Should think that would be obvious, though. I mean, seriously, the guy has a captive, _don't piss him off_. Christ, you rookies are dumb."

"Four years in FOXHOUND, buddy." lied Snake. "Get your facts straight."

Dirty Duck snorted. "Liar, liar, pants on fire. You don't look it, though...I'd never guess it's your first mission." Snake blinked, and Duck laughed. "A little bird told me. Well, don't just stand there, do something! Try and talk me down. Go ahead, try. I'm getting bored here." He fidgeted a bit. "Dangerous when bored, yes."

There was a silence. Snake finally lowered his gun, gambling on his initial hunch. "What's your name? Your real name."

"Kevin," came the gleeful reply. "Cousin Kevin. All alone." He giggled childishly. "Let's think of a game to play, now the grownups have all gone away," he sang.

"Tell you what...Kevin," Snake continued. "I'll make you a deal."

"A deal! Let's make a deal!" cackled Duck. "Go ahead, FOXHOUND...I'm all ears."

"You're going to let that man go," began Snake, "and then I'm going to shoot you in the head and kill you instantly and painlessly. If you kill him, you'll have no leverage, and nothing to stop me when I shoot you in the gut, maybe the kneecaps for good measure. You'll probably take at least an hour to die, maybe less if the bullet gets infected. Did I mention these are hollow points? When you get hit with a hollow-point round, _it hurts_." He raised his weapon again. "So put away the gun and drop that stupid garage door opener. Do we have a deal?"

As Snake talked, Duck trembled more and more violently, until Snake though he would spontaneously combust. Finally he exploded at Snake. "You shit! You arrogant little shit! You cockhead bastard prick! I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill all of you!" He threw his hostage down to the ground and charged at Snake. But the FOXHOUND was faster; true to his word, he dispatched the madman with a single shot. Duck's head snapped back as he crumpled to the ground. Snake advanced quickly and checked the hostage.

It was a dummy.

Snake looked up at the other hostages—they were quite real and very dead, propped up against the walls with all the trappings of captivity.

Standing up, Snake scratched his head. "Can you think of any reason why they'd go to the trouble of faking a hostage situation?"

"I can think of one or two," replied a voice from behind.

Snake whirled around, gun at the ready, to see Jennifer in the clutches of another maniacally laughing figure, dressed identically to the one lying dead on the floor behind Snake.

"Marvelous things, humans." The new antagonist pressed his gun to the back of Jennifer's head, and she immediately stopped squirming. "Pump the body full of drugs and hypnosis and you can destroy the soul. But what fun is that, when you can change a man into someone else?"

Snake was filled with a sudden, horrible uncertainty. "Who did I just kill?"

"Me, of course. Oh, you mean who he _was_?" The true Dirty Duck laughed hysterically. "His name was Stephen Freeman." Jennifer's screams of anguish blended with Duck's howls of joy. "And that detonator is the proof."

Snake's world was noise and chaos. He was on the floor, scrambling for the dead man's right hand, dimly aware he had dropped his gun, finally picking up the apparent detonator, finally comprehending the little blinking light on the front--

--it wasn't the detonator, it was the _bomb_--

--turning toward Duck, with the real detonator in his hand--

--the Cheshire grin, the thumb pressing down--

--instinct, _throw_--

--flying through the air--

--she was breaking free, diving--

--three beeps--

--explosion, screams--

--silence.

And he was alive.

He was scrambling over to Jennifer's body, hoping, praying she'd survived—she was barely there, unconscious with a broken arm—but she was there, and Duck was dead, for good this time.

He stayed for a moment, holding her close.

Reality gradually came into focus. Gently setting her slight frame down, Snake applied what first aid he could. He dialed Schneider's number.

"Schneider here."

"Jennifer's wounded! Medic, computer room, level 3, building 2, _now_!" He stood and moved to the computer bank furthest from the doorway.

"I'll send someone right away. What the hell happened?"

Snake did not answer. He was staring at the screen readout, a table of some sort.

TIME ARK DIST.

0700.....................2200 KM

0800.....................1800 KM

0900.....................1400 KM

1000.....................1000 KM

TX-55 RANGE...1200 KM

OPTIMAL LAUNCH:

1000 HRS.

_Nations' Order Alliance ARK, off the coast of South Africa_

"Did he say when he'd be back?"

"About two o'clock, I think, sir."

"Damn. Roy, do you have the time?"

"It's ten to ten, Mr. President."

_Chapter Notes: I'm hoping to God it's clear what happened and what was revealed in this chapter; if not, I can always add a synopsis. The hostage-taking boss, originally Boomerang Man in the Land of Bottomless Trap Doors (well, in practice, anyway), was given the Joker treatment (if you haven't seen _The Dark Knight_, you're _so_ not allowed on the Internet until you've rectified that), and the terrorists' motive was revamped, so their plan for taking over the world makes more sense. By the way, the first version of this chapter had so many inconsistencies in that last table alone that I had to pull out The Three Rs of Internet Fanfiction: Revise, Reupload, and Retcon._


	18. Questions

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: A Merry Non-Denominational Capitalist Winter Gift Day and a Happy New Year! I come bearing updates and, for the good little boys and girls, a shiny new copy of the ultra-rare NES version of Metal Gear 2! ...What's that, minion? This is _Snake's Revenge _I have here? God dammit. Sorry folks, maybe next year._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Eighteen: Questions_

"So the terrorists' target was the ARK all along? Sounds a bit outlandish, frankly. Do you know what this thing is?" asked Big Boss.

"Negative, sir," replied Snake. "I've heard mention of it, but everyone I know at FOXHOUND was so busy trying to figure out this Metal Gear problem, it never occurred that the two might be related. What's this about NOA?"

Big Boss sighed. "The Nation's Order Alliance. A fringe NGO that claims to serve no agenda other than complete disarmament of all weapons chemical, biological, and especially nuclear. Why they don't just lobby Congress for a million pounds of jelly beans and a unicorn I'll never know. Somehow, they got their hands on an old aircraft carrier and way the hell too much money." The usually collected old soldier was suddenly in the midst of a pedantic yet somehow very focused tirade. "And what did they do with things any five-cent freedom fighter would sell his soul for? They repurpose the carrier as a passenger ship and put together what by all means should have been a goddamn orgy of flowers and incense, except that the media caught wind of it."

"And the President's on board?" Snake inquired innocently.

Big Boss's rage was only fueled. "Not _just _ the President. Oh no. No, of course we had to have editorials in every newspaper in the civilized world, actually _encouraging _politicians to come join the hippy brigade. Now we have people from France, Germany, the UK, Japan, Russia, places you've never _heard_ of; all in the same place at the same time. And in the middle of all this positive PR, what's every intelligence agency in the world got against the high school glee club? Not a damn thing. I swear to God—"

He continued, occasionally losing focus and coherence but never momentum. Snake began to tune him out, thinking about how he was going to get to Metal Gear in less than ten minutes. According to the map on the computer, the armory back on the first level would probably have a jeep which would get him to building 3. There, it would be a 100-floor elevator trip down to the hangar for Metal Gear. All told, not more than five minutes if Snake hurried.

As he set out for the elevator, he was dimly aware of a noise in the background of Big Boss's monologue.

Helicopter blades? "Sir, where—"

Suddenly, the ring of another incoming call. Snake quickly switched frequencies. "Who's this?"

"Snake! Snake, listen to me. The resistance HQ is under attack!"

"Schneider? What happened? Where--"

"No time! Soldiers everywhere! Listen, you have to get here! Building 3! There's a tra—"

Right on cue, the line went dead. Snake switched back to Big Boss's frequency, only to get static. He'd been disconnected. _No time to think about that right now. Gotta find Metal Gear_.

The large-scale attack on the resistance HQ seemed to be occupying most of the base's guards—already down to a skeleton crew in preparation for Metal Gear's launch—and the few that were still looking for Snake didn't find him. Procuring another sub-machine gun and commandeering a jeep proved trivial, and the road to building 3 was clear enough.

Questions started to pop up in Snake's head. Who was this Commander, and how was he always a step ahead of Snake? Why was he surviving, by the skin of his teeth, encounters that clearly were not meant to leave him alive? Where was the resistance HQ, and what had Schneider discovered that had brought down the wrath of Outer Heaven?

Snake could feel he was close to the end. Metal Gear would be destroyed, and then...what? He'd go home and always wonder what had happened in Outer Heaven, where the Commander had disappeared to..

Against every impulse in his brain, Snake dialed Jennifer's frequency. "Are you alive?"  
"Snake? Where are you?"

"On my way to building 3. I heard the HQ was attacked; how are you holding up?

"Bad. The medic and I made it back, but I'm pinned down here with another girl. Between the three of us we've got two able shooters and one gun with about four mags left." A nearby burst from an AK. "Make that three Can you make it here?"

Snake ignored the question. Instead, he said, "How much do you know about the Commander?"

"Are you serious? Right now--" More gunfire. "Why are you asking?"

"Because I have to kill him."

_Chapter Notes: Not so happy with this one. Oh well, three more chapters after this and it's all over. Brace yourselves._


	19. Ragnarok

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: _Escape Velocity Nova, World of Warcraft, GTA San Andreas, Resident Evil 5, and finally Star Ocean: Second Evolution. _These games, my ever-patient readers, are the bane of procrastinators everywhere, a fantastic fivefold fallacy, forming a quantum anomaly that sucks free time from my universe like a Slurpee through a novelty straw. After all that time wasted, I just didn't want to upload a bad chapter again, so I pulled out all the stops for what I hope is one of the coolest chapters in this entire fic._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Nineteen: Ragnarok_

_Resistance HQ_

"You have to _what_?"shouted Jennifer into her microphone. "I can't hear you over all this Goddamn gunfire!"

"Look, Metal Gear is launching in less than ten minutes. I have to delay the launch somehow, and I need to get to the Commander to do that. You need to help me out."

"In case you didn't notice," she told Snake testily, "I'm in the middle of a shitstorm of bullets right now."

"I'll distract them. Where's the resistance headquarters?"

"The southwest corner of the building, but the east door is broken. You need card 4 to get in here through the lower-security north door. To get card 4, you'd need to go--"

"Screw the goddamn cards. Get to the north door and stay there; I'm coming in."

Jennifer glanced at the doorway: four feet north, six feet west, west here meaning "in the direction of the men firing guns this way". Only a reinforced metal pillar between there and the shooters. "What?"

"You've got fifteen seconds. Do it! Go!" The signal cut out.

Jennifer scrambled back to the damaged bank of computers where Diane was firing burst after burst from the AK. The medic was crouching behind an nearby overturned metal table, occasionally popping out and pretending to lay down suppressing fire. In the chaotic, ear-splitting cacophony of bullets, it was nearly impossible to tell that his Glock was, in fact, empty.

"We gotta move," Jennifer yelled.

Diane ducked down, saw where Jennifer was pointing, shook her head. "Are you insane?"

"Don't get me started. Let's go," she barked, grabbing Diane's hand and rushing for the door. The medic tried to follow, but was pinned down behind the computers.

Diane arrived in the thin doorway first, with Jennifer sliding into position a moment later. "Now what?" said Diane.

The words had barely left her lips as the jeep blasted through the damaged south wall and plowed through the front line of guards before crashing against the metal pillar, plaster and drywall flying everywhere, covering the bank of computers. The hood of the jeep popped open, off its hinges, over the back of the car, into the spine of one soldier who'd had the sense to dive for cover, not that it had helped. He dropped his M11 and the medic snatched it up, fired off about a dozen rounds at the Outer Heaven soldiers. Four or five hit the exposed, smoking engine of the jeep, which was soon spouting flames. This time it was Diane who grabbed Jennifer, rushed back to the medic's table, fired another burst from her AK, three, four, five rounds then _click_, empty.

A stray round hit one of the soldier's weapons, which discharged into the jeep. The battered vehicle finally expired as first the engine, then the gas tank exploded in an infernal cloud of fire and shrapnel; the one remaining Outer Heaven soldier dropped his shotgun and beat a hasty retreat.

There were a few seconds of relative quiet before Snake, coughing and choking, appeared through the hole in the south wall, stumbled to the north door, and collapsed against the wall.

Diane was first to react, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him with increasing force. The medic arrived next, rifling through the remains of his first aid kit. "Does he need morphine, adrenaline, what?"

Snake grabbed the medic's arm, pulled him close and whispered, "Vending machine."

"He's delirious; definitely the morphine," the medic pronounced, taking a syringe from the kit.

Snake shoved the medic aside. He clawed at the wall, looking for something to hold onto; found it; lifted himself to his feet; limped over to Jennifer, who was checking the soldier's dropped SPAS-12. "Take me," he said clearly and slowly, "to a vending machine."

_Three minutes later_

Snake sat cross-legged on the floor of the empty rec room with his third can of Sprite in one hand and his second cigarette in the other. The vending machine lay tipped over behind him, with Diane obsessively cleaning up the broken glass from the front panel and grumbling about "lazy cheap slobs", even as she chewed a mouthful of cheese puffs.

"So, do we have a plan or what?" Jennifer asked again. The medic approached Snake with a syringe, but was met with a glower and quickly turned back.

"Our 'plan', if you must know," grumbled Snake, "is to go kill the Commander."

"That's it?" Diane tried to laugh and nearly choked on her cheese puffs. "What the hell is wrong with you? You just dove out of a jeep and crashed it through a brick wall, and you're ready for more?"

Snake took a last gulp of his soda, doused his cigarette in the half-empty can, and shook his head. "I'm not ready. That's why you're all gonna help me." He got to his feet again and checked his weapon; two spare magazines left. "Who knows how to get the the basement level?" The medic raised his hand tentatively, and Snake pointed at him. "You, lead the way."

The medic did so, eventually leading them around a corner to a large cargo elevator. Snake hit the call button with his fist and let out a long sigh.

"This is gonna get ugly. Stay frosty, people," he warned. He turned to Diane. "What the hell happened to Schneider? He called me as the resistance HQ was hit; something about a trap, I think..."

"He wasn't even there, don't worry."

Snake did a double-take. "He wasn't?"

"No, he left before the fighting started. Said he had something to go check out." She wrinkled her brow. "He hasn't tried to contact us yet, though..."

"I think he's a double agent."

The words surprised even Snake as he said them, but it was so obvious—the laser corridor, then the Machinegun Kid in the warehouse; the desert outpost, then the helicopter suddenly appearing; the rescue of Madnar, nearly thwarted by Pyro Bison. How the hell had he missed it? "Schneider's the leak; he sold you out to the Outer Heaven troops. He's been working with the Commander the whole time. They're probably together now, preparing for the launch."

The response was as expected; general confusion and disbelief. Snake silenced it with a raised hand. "There's no time to think about it; we need to move if we're gonna get to Metal Gear before--"

"Five minutes to launch of Metal Gear," announced the PA system. As if on cue, the elevator arrived, the doors opening to reveal three soldiers in blue full-body uniforms.

"Fall back!" Jennifer yelled, her eyes widening in horror. "Get to cover!"

Gunfire erupted immediately as Snake and the rebels retreated behind the corner. Snake fired two shots, hitting one soldier in the chest to surprisingly little effect.

"That's not armored gear...what the hell?"

"Einherjar," whispered Jennifer.

Just the name sent chills down Snake's spine, his shaking hands belying the sudden sense of dread that he tried to conceal in his face. "Ein-who?"

"The Commander's personal guard," explained Diane. "Named for the souls of fallen Viking warriors who were exceptionally valiant in life, fighting on alongside the Valkyrie in preparation for Ragnarok, the war that causes the end of the world. Their real-world counterparts are pumped up on an experimental military-grade strength enhancer."

"Basically, Outer Heaven's super soldiers," finished Jennifer.

"We don't have time for that!" he growled. One of the soldiers was quickly closing the distance to the corner as his allies took cover behind the elevator doors and lay down suppressing fire. "Does anyone have a grenade?"

No one did. Snake swore. "Jennifer, shotgun."

She handed it to him along with her last two spare shells. Snake checked the weapon itself; it was fully loaded. He took a deep breath, then turned back to Jennifer. "This should slow them down for a bit. When I go down, run like hell!"

"Wait!" she yelled, but he was already gone.

The soldier came round the corner and was met with a shotgun barrel in the gut. The first blast tore through his abdomen, splintering bone and shredding viscera as Snake pumped the shotgun, tossed it to his left hand, whipped out the P226 with his right, and pumped his left arm up and down to ready the shotgun again. As the second and third soldier jumped out of cover, Snake started advancing, firing wildly with the handgun, expending ten rounds in under three seconds and forcing the soldiers back after they'd fired only a few shots. Snake threw the handgun behind him, jumped into the elevator, raised the shotgun, and blew the third man's head off; the recoil sent Snake's left arm and weapon flying backwards into the second soldier's face. Snake, now weaponless, threw himself at the soldier behind him, who reacted with lightning speed, blocking Snake's furious flurry of fists with relative ease; Snake was forced backwards. There was a pause, then the Outer Heaven soldier went for the dropped shotgun. As he leveled it at Snake, the FOXHOUND pushed the shotgun up, and the soldier's blast hit the roof of the elevator, raining metal and plastic into the soldier's eyes.

Snake slid around to the man's back, grabbed him by the throat, and was about to snap his neck when he spotted the first soldier using his last bit of strength to aim at Snake with his own handgun. Snake ducked, and the shot hit the second soldier in the neck, severing his spinal cord; Snake threw the body to the ground and prepared to charge. He needn't have bothered; at the sight of his failure, the first guard coughed up blood and expired.

Snake surveyed the scene. The smell of carnage overpowering the smell of gunpowder and cordite. One man blown in two, his torso lying a couple feet from his legs. His comrade lying face-down in the elevator doorway. The third slumped headless against the wall, flecks of gray matter sliding down his chest.

"Christ," breathed Snake.

He doubled over and vomited.

_100 floors below the ground_

The elevator rumbled to a stop, waking Snake. He shook his head and tried to remember when he'd actually fallen asleep.

"You fainted," said Jennifer, standing above him.

"Like a girl," added Diane.

The medic finished removing a bullet from Snake's leg—Snake didn't remember where it had come from—and helped him up.

"Those bastards just wouldn't quit," he coughed.

"I could say the same for you," chuckled Jennifer. "Jesus, you made a mess up there. Had to drag you out of the puddle of your own puke. You're welcome."

"That drug must really be something. Why the hell didn't you tell me that the strongest Outer Heaven troops were damn near invincible?"

Diane shrugged."We knew that the Commander was testing Valkyrie—the drug—and he never actually stopped using it officially, but..."

"It boosted physical fitness, mental acuity, and overall combat readiness by over 900 percent," scoffed Jennifer. "A little thing like 'all the subjects die within six hours' isn't going to stop the Commander. I'm just surprised he didn't deploy it sooner."

"Plus, he's wasting the Einherjar on us, when he could be out conquering the world or something," added Diane. "What is that about?"

Snake shrugged. "Maybe he didn't want to use it until..." He trailed off, his thoughts leading down a new, terrifying path. "Until the end."

"The end of what?" inquired Diane innocently.

Suddenly it was obvious. The Commander was willing to send his super soldiers after the intruders because he wouldn't need them anymore after Metal Gear's launch. The destruction of the ARK would cause worldwide pandemonium. Rioting and looting. Chaos and fear. Anarchy and destruction. With its leaders dead, modern civilization would lie in ruins.

"The end of the world. Ragnarok."

_Chapter Notes: Every _Metal Gear _game has its normal grunts and its special forces—except the first one. Rather than just the usual "elite training plus epic gear" stuff, I was inspired by two games very different from _MGS _(and each other) to make these bad mofos. The scene at the start was inspired by _Grand Theft Auto_ and a general disdain for those damn card keys (thankfully, _MGS4 _does away with them entirely). I don't know myself where the vending machine bit came from, though Snake's soda of choice is definitely the lemon-lime goodness of Sprite_TM_._


	20. The Choice

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: This is not the last chapter, but I felt that since the fic is close to wrapping up I should start making chapters longer and more epic. I really do feel I've come a long way since writing that first chapter over two years ago._

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Twenty: The Choice_

The first encounter with the Einherjar had been brutal, but economically fortuitous; Diane and the medic had scavenged several 7.62 and 9mm magazines, respectively, while Jennifer had traded her Mossberg for a SPAS-12. A single MP5 sub-machine gun with three spare magazines was set aside for Snake, who snatched it from the floor as the elevator doors opened.

Snake was completely expecting half a dozen more Einherjar to be waiting in ambush, ready to fill him with lead. He was only half right: only two Einherjar were among the six guards that opened fire on the motley crew of good guys in the elevator. The medic very nearly took a bullet to the head, but he stood up at just the right time and the bullet hit him in the upper thigh; as he collapsed in pain, another shot whizzed over his head. Jennifer shoved him into the protected extremes of the elevator while Diane rolled a grenade into the crowd. The man in the front scooped the grenade up as his allies fell back a few paces, unfortunately, it went off as he was winding up to throw it back. Shrapnel flew into the eyes of several of the soldiers, including one of the Einherjar, who blinked a few times; Snake was sure the flak had bounced off of his eyeball rather than shredding it.

There was a lull in the gunfire while a few people reloaded, then a few more bursts were exchanged, then another pause as everyone ducked back into cover. Suddenly Snake had a flash of inspiration. He hit a button on the elevator panel, and the doors began sliding shut. The two Einherjar rushed the elevator; but neither was quick enough to get inside before the doors shut.

A few tense moments passed as the two grunts tried to figure out what to do next. "Get this door open," one told the Einherjar. The super soldiers stared at the door for a few moments, then abruptly turned and walked away, past the two remaining grunts, down the corridor, out of sight.

Suddenly two gunshots rang out inside the elevator. The sounds of a struggle ensued, and the grunts moved closer to the elevator, trying to hear what was happening. There was much banging of metal on metal, then finally a third gunshot. There was a long moment, then a fourth shot, then silence. The two men lowered their guns and waited. And waited

Finally one of the guards piped up, "Did they give up?"

"The hell they did," his companion snorted.

"It sounds like one of 'em killed the rest and then himself," the first said. "We oughta go in there, make sure they're dead."

The other shook his head. "They're probably waiting for us inside there with some ridiculous ambush, not that it's gonna matter when those blue freaks smash through the door."

"But they know we're out here. If they all pretended to be dead we'd just shoot 'em again to make sure. Why would they fake it?"

The second thought for a moment. "One of them could have killed the rest, faked killing himself, then escaped through the grate on the roof of the elevator."

"But there's nowhere to go from up there," countered the first. "You'd have to ride the elevator down even further, to the very bottom of the shaft—without gettin' back inside to send it down—then climb up the ladder to this level and somehow open the door. And we'da heard if the elevator left this floor."

"Huh. But what would he have to gain by staying here?"

"Maybe he's tryin' to surrender, join the Commander at the last minute."

"Now why the hell would he do that? The Commander's just gonna kill him. These guys have been pissing him off for long enough."

"Good point. So maybe they ain't dead after all."

"But then why the hell did they close the door? What are they up to?"

The first scratched his head. "Maybe they've turned invisible and there won't be nobody home when the doors open."

"Now you're just being dumb. How are they gonna turn invisible? They got a wizard with them, is that it?"

"I don't know!" The first threw up his hands. "What would _you_ do?"

His partner blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah, you!" The first started pacing back and forth, gesticulating wildly. "Lemme paint you a picture: You're the brainwashed American intruder aiding a ragtag bunch of terrorists who want to overthrow our government for no good reason. You come in and start killin' folks left and right, blowin' up helicopters, stuff like that. Then, once you've kidnapped our best scientist to use for your own ends, you order a nuclear strike!"

The second man's jaw hit the floor. "_They're going to nuke us?_"

"What'd you expect?" shrugged the first. "We don't want to play the American game, so they've declared us terrorists. Did you really think they weren't gonna try and blow us up?"

"Oh, God. How long do we have?"

His comrade leaned in. "See, that's where it gets good. I know people who know people, who tell me Madnar was designing a mobile weapons platform to shoot nukes _right outta the sky_! That's what all that Metal Gear business on the PA is about—it's a codename for the missile interception grid! We're gonna be fine!"

"Jesus, could've fooled me. So you were saying?"

"Right, right." The first man resumed pacing and gesturing. "You want to assassinate the Commander, but you can't, 'cuz the good guys are in the way." He paused. "I think I hear those blue guys comin' back. 'Bout damn time, too."

His partner was now completely focused on him. "Yeah, yeah. So what're you saying?"

"Well, I'm sayin' this: You know how this elevator works. How do you get through the guys in this corridor? Let's assume you don't have enough ammo to kill 'em all the old-fashioned way."

The second thought, and was rewarded with an idea. "Well, I'd have to think _really _fast, but..."

"Oooh! Lemme hear it! Lemme hear it!" spouted his buddy.

"Well..." He pretended to think very hard, for the benefit of the Einherjar charging towards the door. "I'd pretend to kill my squad by firing a few shots into the grate on the roof. Then we'd all climb through and up the ladder a few floors. I'd stay close to the elevator, listening for the good guys. Then, when they're just about to break in, I'd drop a couple grenades into the elevator and kill all those mothers in one go." He leaned against the corridor wall, folding his arms and nodding and the Einherjar passing by. "Pretty smart, huh?"

_Thirty seconds later_

"I can't believe that worked," exhaled Diane, surveying the carnage as she finaly clambered through the gaping hole in the elevator doors.

"I can't believe he thought of that so quickly," Jennifer agreed, picking bits of shrapnel out of her jeans.

"I'm just glad we're alive," gasped Diane. "Where's Snake?"

The medic pointed down the corridor. "He didn't miss a beat; as soon as the grenade blew he swung down and made a break for it."

"There's only one way to Metal Gear," Jennifer pointed out, "and it's pretty much the only path on this floor. We've gotta hurry if we want to catch up. Move out!"

_TX-55 Hangar, two minutes later_

"Two minutes to launch of Metal Gear," proclaimed the PA system. "All non-essential personnel, please evacuate to the nearest building at this time."

The tank itself was something to behold. It was crowned by a sensory unit on the very top, supported by two half-finished legs, and filled in between by fifty feet of steel blue torso.

At any other time, Snake might have been stopped in his tracks by the metal monster. But with two minutes to launch—_less now!_—this was no time to be awestruck. Ducking between the legs, Snake turned around to face the machine's rear and saw the two self-destruct buttons: large indentations ten inches wide, twelve feet off the ground, with the word FAILSAFE inscribed in the metal below.

"So much for undetectable," mumbled Snake idly, fumbling for the piece of paper with Madnar's code on it. He found it and pulled it out.

_**Activate 16 buttons in this order for fails **_

_**R, R, L, R, L, L, R, L, L, R, R, L, R, L, R **_

"One minute to launch of Metal Gear," the PA system declared, redundantly.

Snake aimed his MP5 and fired two shots at the button on the right. It twitched both times; Snake took this to mean it had activated. He turned, aimed, and shot the left-hand button, pivoted and shot the right one again, swiveled and took aim at the left one once more. Seven turns later, he fired one last bullet into the button on the right.

Nothing happened.

Snake was utterly still for a moment, then he was frantically grabbing for the piece of paper. To his utter horror, Snake realized that there was a section missing: a small scrap on the right side of the paper had been torn off, and with it the last piece of the failsafe activation code. There was one more button to push, and Snake had no way of knowing which one it was.

"Thirty seconds to launch of Metal Gear," announced the PA. Blast doors began opening above Snake, and suddenly the entire hangar began shifting rapidly. Snake glanced around. The whole _room _was an elevator, designed to ferry Metal Gear to the surface for the launch. He could see the sky far above him, rapidly approaching. In the distance, the sound of a helicopter.

Suddenly, Solid Snake faltered.

He wasn't equipped for this. He wasn't cut out. If it was a FOXHOUND veteran who found the fate of modern civilization in his hands, maybe.

"Twenty seconds to launch of Metal Gear."

But on his first mission with FOXHOUND, the first mission where he'd killed, it was too much to ask of anyone. Snake couldn't make this kind of choice. Not under this kind of pressure. He couldn't. Could he?

"Fifteen seconds to launch."

_What would Fox do? _

"Ten. Nine. Eight."

He inhaled deeply.

"Seven. Six."

Raised the gun.

"Five. Four. Three."

Aimed.

"Two."

Fired.

"One."

_Chapter Notes: The comedy bit with the two guards was inspired by _Max Payne,_ a game that is very good at characterizing its faceless mob goons (and is also half of the inspiration for the Einherjar). The sequence Madnar gives you in the game, as shown in the chapter, is incomplete; you literally need to guess the last part of the sequence (though you get a lot more warning, as Madnar tells you he's forgotten the last letter as you rescue him). Tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion to _Steel Dawn_! Or something.  
_


	21. Nec Dextrorsum Nec Sinistrorsum

_**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE NOVELIZATION**_

_by Alex Greene, aka Pika132_

_Disclaimer: Metal Gear and all that is Metal Gear © Konami and/or Kojima Productions_

_Author's Note: Here we are, folks—the thrilling conclusion. Ho ho ho!_

_**EPISODE ONE: STEEL DAWN**_

_Chapter Twenty-One: Nec D__extrorsum, Nec Sinistrorsum_

Solid Snake had passed his regular psych evaluations every time they'd come around. Ink blots revealed a lonely but mentally stable man who sought solace in the brotherhood and camaraderie of the armed forces. His one vice of cigarettes notwithstanding, Snake was more than a good soldier. He was a good person.

Yet as he stood there in the rising hangar, no music was sweeter or more satisfying to him than the horrendous, violent noises of Metal Gear's self-destruction. The super tank that had been such a threat for so long was literally going up in smoke, along with all the Commander's visions of a world in flames.

Snake stood for a few moments, taking it all in, before it occurred to him to take cover. The hangar had been traveling towards the surface much faster than the elevator from before, and as the platform emerged from the desert sands, Snake beat feet back towards building 3, a few hundred yards to the south.

He made it about half the way there when he was knocked off his feet by a blast wave. With a final, climactic fireball, Metal Gear was blasted into a million pieces. A single, glorious plume of massive flame shot into the air. Snake watched it with a new sense of wonder.

As in, "I wonder how high that thing is going to go."

The plume kept skyrocketing into the air, and the shrapnel and debris fell away from it to reveal the dying machine's last gasp: a small nuclear missile. The missile began to shift course into a parabola as it screamed towards the ARK at four thousand kilometers per hour.

Snake suddenly found himself utterly calm. There was no fear. There were no thoughts of "I've failed" or "The Commander has won". Only "I've got to get to the ARK".

Someone grabbed Snake from behind and spun him around. Snake went for his MP5, but it wasn't there—_must have dropped it somewhere back in the wreckage_.

"Good reflexes, kid," said Big Boss, standing before Snake. "Now get in the chopper. We've got some heads of state to protect."

_The bridge of the ARK, twelve minutes later_

"Son, this order is non-negotiable. You need to get the President and everyone else off this hunk of junk." demanded Big Boss.

Lt. Admiral David Shepard, US Navy, ret., shook his head. "Even if I were willing to comply with such a drastic order from a bunch of spooks—and don't think for a second that I am—the ARK just doesn't have the emergency systems necessary for an evacuation. Not enough lifeboats for even a third of the guest VIPs."

"What about the escort ships? There's two cruisers and a battleship on standby, right?"

"Full to capacity already. They're at full capacity so we can fight off any pirates or other sea threat. There are two fighters on deck to engage any aircraft who come after us. Should the aircraft fail, we have a missile defense system that will shoot down any standard ballistic ordinance and cause it to detonate harmlessly 100 feet above us." Snake tried to interject, but Shepard just kept talking. "Finally, the Secret Service and equivalent security agencies from all guest countries are out in force, in addition to a hefty supply of UN troops. So why don't you tell me what exactly is such a great threat that we need to ignore all these defense measures and evacuate the whole damn ship?"

Big Boss gazed at Shepard for a moment, then suddenly turned away, defeated. Snake followed him out the door to the deck. There was silence between them as Snake followed the old soldier into the helicopter. Finally Snake piped up, "Orders, sir?"

"None," said the old soldier. "It's over. We're going home." He put on his headset and began strapping on his parachute. "Start this thing up," he shouted to the helicopter pilot, and the rotor blades began to whir above them.

Snake opened his mouth, closed it, took a breath, donned his headset. "Sir, if I may—"

"You may _not_, damn it!" Big Boss's voice was suddenly full of volcanic fury as thirty years' worth of suppressed emotion exploded. "You may notspeak freely, you may not serve your country, you may not pass Go and collect two hundred dollars. No, you and I are going to sit by and watch as the leaders of the so-called free world are blown to smithereens because of their own complacent arrogance and bureaucratic bullshit. God knows they had it coming, but it was us who swore oaths to put our lives on the line to defend them. And we failed! I did my damnedest to keep this whole mess off the President's radar because _he didn't want to know_, and we didn't want him to want to know. But then this ARK bullshit comes up and we have to warn him, and he doesn't want to listen. Then Schneider decides to jump ship while he still can, and it's all over.

"I'd love to tell you the same shit probably happened in every one of these stuck-up Eurotrash countries, but no. The US got this intel, the US went in to fix the problem, _like we always do_, and the US is going to take the fall for it. And we deserve it! America, the world's policeman! America, the land of the free and the home of the brave! I love this damn country. If I could bleed white and blue as well as red when I get shot, I would. I swore to defend her against all enemies, and God knows I've tried, but I can't save her from herself. Every day I woke up dreading this day. And here we are, the inevitable end of the American empire. Europe will crumble without us to prop it up, and the Russians will move in. Africa and South America won't even bother with civilization anymore; they'll just go back to being slaughtered by tribal warlords. Japan might survive, but who gives a shit about them really? China and India will be on top all of a sudden, and then...well, I just hope you like MSG and mango chutney," finished Big Boss, turning to Snake for the first time.

There was a long pause as Big Boss composed himself. A peculiar thought arose, unbidden, in Snake's mind; he tried to fight it off but found it too intriguing to ignore. Finally, Snake voiced his concerns.

"Sir, how did you know about Schneider?"

Big Boss looked at Snake, but did not answer.

"How did you know about Schneider?" Snake pressed.

"I was the one feeding him bad intel," replied Big Boss plainly.

Snake didn't even register this news for a moment; finally, it hit him with the force of a mortar shell.

"Yeah, that's right, kid," said the man also known as the Commander. "And I guess you did pretty well in there, right up to the moment I got you into a helicopter with me. By the way, I have a .45 in my other hand and the pilot's one of mine; don't try anything funny."

Snake was utterly still. This wasn't happening; it wasn't real. The greatest soldier in the world wasn't a traitor to his country and the leader of a rogue state.

Big Boss kept talking. "Schneider was a red herring; it was me pulling the strings in Outer Heaven, feeding the resistance information. Your purpose was to rescue Fox. The minute I had a way to get him out of there without exposing myself, you were expendable. Shotmaker's orders were to kill you and let Fox kill him. Of course that didn't work, so I sent the Machinegun Kid and then the helicopter to take you out. Bison was supposed to kill Madnar first to trip you up, but by that point I figured anyone going after you was as good as dead."

"Your men would have sacrificed themselves to kill me? Just like that?"

"It's easy if you've got a cause to believe in. Well, sacrifice anyway. Killing you was getting pretty damn tough," grinned the traitor.

"So is this about religion then? You're destroying the free world in the name of God?"

"I'm _saving _the world," screamed Big Boss. "I'm cleansing it of the evil of democracy, and I'm sure as shit not doing it for a higher power. I'm doing it for _us_, the soldiers, the ones who fight and die in war and get swept under the rug during peacetime. Soldier's can't function like that. We need someone to give us orders and tell us who to kill. That's Outer Heaven...a place where soldiers can be soldiers."

"And terrorists can be terrorists, and everybody else can be collateral damage. That about right?" retorted Snake.

Big Boss sputtered and began to turn purple. Suddenly, he was in Snake's face with the .45. In his eyes Snake thought he saw something more terrifying than the cold metal at his forehead.

"You are _very lucky_," the old man hissed, "that I didn't intend to kill you outright." He took a breath. "Since you've done so well at destroying all my years of planning, I'll give you a choice of what will happen next."

Snake felt his mind gearing up for action once again. He slowly nodded

With his left hand, Big Boss took out a small device that looked like a calculator, his eyes never leaving Snake's."I have the code to detonate the missile early, and if you ask politely, I will enter it, saving the ARK. Once the code is entered, I will kill you, and you'll die knowing that I _will _try again, and I'll still have my cover. The other choice—" he slid open the door behind him—"you kill me and prevent me from taking power, knowing that hundreds of thousands will probably die in the transition, and that the President and his fellow heads of state will be among them. Plus, my man here will testify that you ambushed me, so you'll go down in history as a traitor. What'll it be, Snake?" He pressed the .45 to Snake's forehead again and drew back the hammer. "Oh, and I'll kill you anyway if you take too long to decide."

Snake did not hesitate. "Enter the code."

Big Boss let out a humorless laugh. "I thought so. You didn't really have a choice at all, did you?" As he brought the device up to his face, Snake seized it and threw it out the door. While Big Boss gaped, Snake punched him across the jaw and went for the gun, which fired once, hitting the pilot, who slumped over at his controls. As the chopper began to roll to the right, Snake kicked at Big Boss one, two, three times and finally sent him flying out the door. Snake scrambled into the pilot's seat and fumbled with the controls, fighting to keep the chopper in the air. As the machine climbed, the sensors starting shrieking about an incoming missile and urging him to deploy countermeasures.

Snake pressed the stick forward, sending the machine zooming towards the oncoming missile.

"There's always a choice," he murmured, and bailed.

_Epilogue_

The security personnel on the ARK did their jobs admirably; all of the VIPs were belowdecks by the time the shockwave from the blast hit the boats. All passengers and crew survived with minor injuries at worst. The warhead was only 5 kilotons, so the radiation damage was minimal.

MICHAEL DRUMMOND's propensity for being in the wrong place at the wrong time worked in his favor: he was in the residential sector of Outer Heaven and, posing as a civilian, narrowly avoided prosecution. He drifted north and eventually took a job at a mall in Cairo...as a security guard.

DRAGO PETTROVICH MADNAR was tried for war crimes and acquitted, on the grounds that he was coerced. He and his daughter are currently seeking political asylum in the United States, though his application is pending.

KYLE SCHNEIDER was found barely breathing in the back of a truck during the UN peacekeeping forces' raid of Outer Heaven. He had been severely beaten and shot twice in the back, and remains in a coma in a South African hospital.

JENNIFER FREEMAN and DIANE SEGAL were spared in the spate of perfunctory trials that extended to even low-level Outer Heaven officials. In June 1996, they expatriated to America. Diane now works at a TV news station, and Jennifer is a martial arts instructor.

BIG BOSS's body was never found. Roy Campbell, who received the report of Operation Intrude N313, is now in command of Special Operations FOXHOUND.

SOLID SNAKE was found a few days after the Outer Heaven debacle by a cargo ship passing around the Cape of Good Hope. He suffered moderate radiation poisoning and was evacuated by helicopter to Johannesburg. He remained in hospital custody for three weeks before being released to the US Embassy. He worked for FOXHOUND for two more years before abruptly resigning in 1997 and disappearing.

_Chapter Notes: Aaaaaand it's over! Obviously the ending here is very different from the game, where after fighting Metal Gear, Big Boss attacks you in the very next room. Also, the political angle is all mine; none of the ARK stuff is in the game. _

_Future Plans: So forget the Metal Gear Saga stuff...it ain't gonna happen, at least not the way I planned. I will almost certainly do Metal Gear 2: Solid Snake. MGS1 has a novelization already, written by Raymond Benson...yeah, it's not very good; I may try my hand at it MGS2 and 3 are more iffy. MGS4...no. The portable games I'm undecided on. My next project will NOT be a Metal Gear title at all; I want to try something different. For now, though, I'm gonna take a long, long break from fanfiction..._


End file.
